Hearts of Iron
by TheEmperorofNothing
Summary: I'm just throwing this little bit of crazy out into the wild for everyone to enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

I am going to start by saying I have absolutely no idea what possessed me to write this. Actually that was a lie; I know exactly why I decided to write this up. History Channel's World War II from Space documentary, plus the RedLetterMedia reviews of the Star Wars prequels, plus a few of my buddies introducing me to World of Tanks the anime AKA Girls Und Panzer.

This was followed by an interesting argument that lasted several hours; the results of said argument were just to intriguing to just do nothing with.

However I probably should mention that I own nothing… Except a laptop, I do own one of those.

But enough of my unnecessary explanations, let's begin the intro chapter.

 **Hearts of Iron: Chapter I – Galactic Mystery Theater and the Russian Roswell.**

* * *

 **Lesser War Room 178XS, Coruscant - The Galactic Republic**

As a Jedi Master and General of the Grand Army of the Republic, Obi-Wan Kenobi had always felt that he was supposed to be patch of calm in any storm, to be a rock of tranquility for others to cling to during disaster.

It was a feeling that had helped him achieve his legendary composure.

On the other hand he was certainly feeling less than calm after a briefing like the one he had just had.

Probes sent to the Unknown Regions, mysterious signals, a captured CIS ship packed full of Republic Cadets, several of whom were children of important Senators, being sent to investigate. It was a set-up to be a disaster of unprecedented proportions.

And already he had the making of a pounding headache. Before they had arrived at the GAR war room he and Anakin had already been briefed on some of the details of today's meeting and he could already tell that this was going to be a very long day, one that just didn't want to start.

Between the impending disaster the briefing had implicitly implied and Anakin's horsing around with Senator Amidala he felt a more than a little annoyed.

And on top of everything else, thanks to Anakin's little tryst with the Senator, they were actually several minutes late. It had taken mountains of his composure to avoid lecturing Anakin about the advantages of punctuality…

There would be plenty of arguing and lecturing today, that he was sure of.

Entering the room late, 'but not that late' He had repeated to himself internally, had brought odd looks from his fellow council members. He refused to dignify a verbal response, simply shooting his eyes at Anakin as though that explained everything.

Ok, actually it usually did. Mace rolled his eyes and sat up straighter and Yoda simply gave a little smirk. As if to say, 'after eight hundred years, seen it all and then some I have, come back when you have a real problem.' The rest of the council's reaction was fairly neutral, like they were expecting it.

'Actually,' Obi-Wan thought to himself with a small sigh. 'They probably were.'

However, despite the unnecessary complications, they weren't actually that late. Just managing to take their seats in the cramped little room when the Chancellor rose to from his seat, throwing Obi-Wan an understanding look, and starting the meeting.

Obi-Wan gave the man a polite nod, hiding a sigh, and hoping his already fraying patience wasn't too obvious.

'No' he thought to himself. 'Not just mine.' He didn't need the force to see frustration and the always helpful dose of fear pouring off several of the Senators present.

'Splendid!' He struggled to prevent his lips from quirking at the thought. 'I'm completely certain that that won't cause any irrational behavior.' And several senators visibly twitched, as though they could read his thoughts.

Suffice to say he felt absolutely certain that today was going to go magnificently. He felt his lips quirk up just slightly in spite of himself, nothing wrong with a little internal sarcasm to lighten his mood after all.

"Everyone, everyone please quiet down." The Supreme Chancellor pleaded from his seat at the head of the table, silencing the heated whispers that hissed across the room. In this case "everyone" included several members of the Jedi council, some here in person while a few others attended though hologram, an unusually large number of Senators for what amounted to a military meeting, several important military personnel and of course the Chancellor himself.

As the Senators irritated whispers died to silence, Palpatine gave everyone a grandfatherly smile. "I would like to open the meeting off with my firm belief that the situation is nowhere near as bad as many here have speculated," he shot a hopeful and reassuring look at some of the more panicked company "but I think we should make an effort to dispel the various rumors that have been floating around the Rotunda."

His hopeful disposition seemed to assuage the Senators, who had been twitching in their seats. "So with that in mind, I call this meeting to order. We must learn the truth about these recent events before we can decide how we will act upon them."

He motioned to a man in an Intelligence Corps uniform sitting next to him, giving the man a firm pat on the back as he rose. "Corporal Hival believes himself the most informed on our current situation and has generously offered his information to aid us in this endeavor." With that he sat down, opening the floor. Riyo Chuchi stepped forward immediately.

"Shall we get straight to the issue, Corporal?" Chuchi started the grilling off with a patient smile. "I have heard that the Intelligence Corps intercepted CIS communications," she gave Chairman Notluwiski, a look, "communications that lead to the belief that there new CIS staging areas being constructed in the Unknown Regions. This is correct, is it not?" The blue woman inquired.

The Corporal nodded. "Yes, that is correct, as all the members of the military here with proper clearance would know." Obi-Wan smirked in amusement at the man's dodge, playing the rank card to avoid having the Senate pin the blame on his organization for not informing them.

"And the Intelligence Corps decided the wisest course of action would be to order the launch of nearly a hundredth of our probe droids," came the growling voice of the Pantoran Chairman, Notluwiski Papanoida, "an order made without informing anyone else or asking for clearance to deploy a huge number of Republic assets into deep space." Notluwiski rumbled in discontent, the already fierce man looking significantly more frustrated than usual.

The Intelligence Officer gave a helpless look as Bail Organa began massaging his temples. "Well yes I suppose that was an adequate description of what was decided." He quickly recovered. "Though the Probe droids are technically possessions of the Intelligence Corp, and we do not require of the permission of the Senate to deploy are own assets."

Obi-Wan sighed and rubbed his forehead in solidarity with Bail "Well then what happened?" He his waved a free hand to help the man to dig himself out of the hole Notluwiski had been attempted to push him into.

Slippery as an eel he continued. "Well I wasn't actually privy to the operations at the time, but I later learned that most of them never actually reported in. We sent out over a hundred thousand probes and just over a thousand actually ended up surviving to arrive somewhere." He waved his hands in an unconcerned fashion. "Mostly it was just empty star systems, nebulae, and the scant asteroid field, all very typical of deep space. Only a few probe clusters ended up in actual habitable systems and out of those only one system was promising." He finished by shooting the Senators with a mildly patronizing smile.

"Promising, how?" Obi-Wan left the open-ended question on the floor as several inquisitive looks appeared around the room.

"We detected faint signals from the third planet." He slicked his hair back. "Initially it was believed to be encoded Separatist communications, but after some analysis it was decided that the signals were completely alien and likely heavily encrypted at that." He smirked at the curious looks of several senators. "Completely unlike anything we had on records."

Mace gave Obi-Wan an inquisitive look before speaking. "That was when the probe went offline?"

"Initially yes, the probe's systems picked up powerful electromagnetic radiation from the systems star just a few hours after entering the system." He shrugged before continuing. "We were unable to get the probe into the inner planets to investigate further before the radiation storm knocked it out."

A holographic display in the center of the table lit up and displayed a fast-forwarded version of the probe's flight through the system, paragraphs of data floating beneath giving basic data on the system and some brief information about the probes attempt to translate the signals.

"And that was when you decided to deploy a bunch of teens, including Jedi Padawans, on a mission aboard this mystery ship we've all been hearing so much about." Anakin piped up flippantly from his seat beside Obi-Wan.

The officer, completely missing the obvious flinching of several Senators, brightened for the first time in the entire meeting. "Yes, that Hardcell was quite a find."

Aayla Secura sighed in frustration at the officer's tactlessness as several of the Senators seemed to hiss venomously. "I have heard that the ship used was a recovered Separatist vessel, "She glanced at the other assembled people. "But not that it was a Hardcell, or the contents of the ships manifest. Would you care to elaborate on that for those present who are similarly uninformed?"

Hival smiled and waved his hand, the Holo of the system changed to a detailed schematic of a Hardcell-Class Transport, a Vulture droid, a Crab droid, an Assassin droid and a probe droid. "A few weeks ago, one of our reconnaissance expeditions found a deactivated CIS ship, a Hardcell-class Interstellar Transport floating in hibernation near Mandalore." It's cargo included a flight of vulture droids docked on the outer hull, and large number of Recon-class Probe droids and LM-432 Crab Droids in Rapid Deployment Pods in main cargo compartment," Chuchi raised her hand and Hival preempted her question. "They are egg shaped metal pods about the size of a LAAT/i designed to allow assets to be deployed from low orbit."

Chuchi's hand dropped and he continued. "On top of that there was also a small complement of the Assassin-class Probe droids." He nodded at Obi-Wan." "We believe they were the same type as the one you reported while on the mission with the Duchess of Mandalore." We figured the ship had been sent to spy or sabotage something in Republic space, but that it had been knocked out by an EMP burst from a nearby star or something similar along those lines."

He straightened his uniform and Obi-Wan decided it was a reaction to the glares some of the assembly, Notluwiski Papanoida, in particular, were throwing at him. "So we… re-purposed it I suppose would be the best way to put it, reprogrammed the ships and the on-board droids then covertly gathered a first contact crew including the Intelligence Corps CO, Director Argonne, and sent in a request for a Battalion of Republic Cadets and the Jedi Padawans." He paused and waved his hand and the holo changed to show the symbol of the Republic Cadets. "Mr. Argonne seemed to think that helping out with a first contact mission would be a wonderful training exercise and that it would help take their minds off the war"

"If worse came to worse they would have some experience working with each other." He gave the Senators an annoyed look. "And seeing as the Republic Cadets are military initiates and the Jedi are ranking officers, any experience working together would only be beneficial."

The Chancellor gave a long suffering, almost pleading look and Obi-Wan felt his headache growing. Bail Organa sighed from across the table. "I suppose until everything went wrong."

The representative looked visibly frustrated again as the room faces in the room shifted to grim or angry, Palpatine making a visible effort to stay hopeful. "Well yes, no plan ever survives first contact and all that."

"What exactly happened?" Riyo Chuchi asked quietly.

The representative sighed explosively at the glares. "Three weeks ago the mission, code-named quite appropriately as Operation: Introduction launched from near Dorin and entered the Unknown Regions tracing the path taken by the probe." His hand dashed across the screen and the route appeared on a map of the galaxy.

"The taskforce included the Hardcell and its on-board CIS assets, we figured better to lose droids in any possible action than Republic forces." He gestured again and the ships hologram appeared again, this time with a detailed manifest, listing personnel, supplies and other equipment.

After giving those present some time to look over the displayed data he continued. "The crew was to include Director Argonne, the fifty personnel of the first-contact team including the notable xenologist Dr. Olin Branx, three Jedi padawans lead by ranking Padawan Barriss Offee, and Rancor Battalion of the Republic Cadets lead by Junior Lieutenant Colonial, Riker Linnet. They spent the first three days gearing up; loading the ship with all their supplies then exited the Dorin system for the Unknown Regions." He paused in thought a second. "The task force made their first report having arrived at the edge of the system, which we gave the tentative name, Aldebaran, just under seven days ago."

"Did everything go well initially" asked Chuchi, "or were their obvious problems from the start?"

Hival almost guffawed but seemed to catch himself. "Of course the mission started out flawlessly, even navigation through the Unknown Regions went without a hitch." He gave Chuchi a slightly haughty look. "Everything started out perfectly Senator, and they were under standing orders to withdraw at the first sign of trouble." A more confident look passed over his face as the room turned slightly less grim. "The Director decided it was safe to approach and they logged some basic information about the system while they closed with the planet."

The holographic display changed to display information on the ships journey to the planet. "When they arrived at the planet itself everyone was in high spirits. Dr. Branx advised that they begin by stopping in high orbit around the planet and simply observe and record what they could."

The display changed again to show an analysis of the planet. "As you can see it's a fairly standard Garden world, with seven continents and large interconnected oceans, evidence gathered included higher than normal pollution levels than would be expected for an uninhabited world and the abundance of encrypted transmissions conclusively proved the planet was inhabited."

He paused for a moment and fiddled with his data-pad. "Attempts to gather more complete information on the planet from high orbit were deemed fruitless as Aldebaran 3's unusually powerful magnetic field caused constant interference with the sensors and limited them mostly to visual observation, plus the solar storms from Aldebaran proper were interfering with the transmissions back to Republic space.

"And so they decided to land?" Bail asked.

"No Senator, landing on the planet was never intended, the director was only ever planning to order probe droids deployed to the largest continent. Programmed, of course, with orders to flee if spotted and fire only if there was no other option available to avoid capture. And that was to be after we had gathered significantly more data about the planet and gained Senate approval to make contact."

Hival shot the condemning Senators a terse look and Obi-Wan decided that now was a good time to speak up again. "And if I had to guess, that's where things went south."

The corporal nodded. "Approximately forty hours ago, the task-force communications officer, Junior Lieutenant Ai Papanoida of Rancor Battalion, reported their sensors had picked up a number of incoming objects and we lost contact with them several minutes after that." He blinked and stared at Ion and Obi-Wan imagined he could hear the man's train of through crashing.

"Do you have any idea why?" Mace grumbled, and Hival snapped back into the moment, ignoring Notluwiski's growling.

Hival gave a nervous chuckle and scratched the back of his head. "I would normally presume a solar storm might be blocking communications. It's possible however that the natives misinterpreted the crashed probe as a hostile act, attacking the task-force, damaging the communication equipment, possibly worse."

Chuchi blinked in confusion. "I thought you said that the droids were only to be deployed after Senate approval?"

Hival was suddenly sweating. "You are completely correct Senator, and as far as we know, no assets were ever deployed from the _Salutation_ ," He paused at the confused stares. "It's what the cadets named the Hardell." Then he continued. "As I was saying, no assets were launched from the _Salutation_ but if you had been paying attention you would note that, that leaves one asset unaccounted for."

Bail straightened, "The probe that discovered the system."

The Corporal nodded. "We confirmed only yesterday that the probe that had been sent the third planet did actually reach the planet's surface."

He wiped sweat off his brow, visibly nervous. "The probes on-board computer recorded being knocked offline by the solar storm while in transit to the planet. Several days later the probe reactivated after passing through the planets magnetic field. The deployment pod was unable to stabilize itself in time and we believe it crashed, somewhere near one of the planets poles due to the probe's sensors logging temperature data well below freezing and the presence of snow in the video footage recorded after the probe detached from the deployment pod."

Obi-Wan could feel Mace's interest peak in the force despite his outwardly passive appearance. "The probe is still intact?"

"There was video footage!" Baron Notluwiski nearly shouted at the same time as Mace's question.

Now the man's nervousness exploded in the force. "Not anymore." He flinched at his slip and wiped sweat from his hair. "And the footage was withheld to prevent… panic."

Ion jumped up next to his father, looking furious. "And you idiots didn't think that we should have been privy to footage?"

"Can we see the footage Corporal?" Alya cut them off before a shouting match could begin.

The man didn't say anything, merely nodding to an aid and the holo-projector in the center of the table fired up again.

III

 **1/27/95, USSR - Somewhere outside of Pravda**

Nina sat in the radio operator's seat, deep in the walker's armored belly, staring at the fat glass thermometer. It was glimmering in the eerie light cast the little red halogen lights and by dozens of radium painted labels and dials. The liquid mercury inside however remained rebellious, failing to yield even a degree to the tiny shivering Russians fire filled gaze.

She adjusted her electrically heated suit with gloved fingers, fiddling with the cord that plugged into her crew stations outlet, cursing the thermometer under her breath.

It was so cold.

It was stupidly cold.

It was an unreasonably cold.

No human being should be out in such weather.

And yet here they were, lumbering through a frozen pine forest in the ass end of Siberia at two in the morning, looking for some stupid meteorite.

'Stumbling might actually be a better word.' She thought darkly as the ST-5 took another unsteady, clumsy step and only the shoulder straps on her seat kept her head from slamming into the radio for the fifteenth time in as many minutes. And with that drunken stumble Nina's patience with the amateur driving ended. "Watch what you're doing up there you drunk!" She hissed up the hatch at Johan, the vehicles current designated driver.

The German boy snorted from the driver's compartment above her. "You idiots were the ones asking for a driver." The vehicle gave another hard lurch and Nina heard a yelp of pain from one of the side mounted turrets. Immediately after, Anya's cursing started to drift down into the pelvic compartment in the cramped bowels of the vehicle. "What kind of idiot driver can't steer a walker?" The unseen blond hissed from her seat in the left vertical turret.

"I was trained in _Panzer_ operation." His accent stressed the German word for tank. "Not Biped operation."

Personally Nina didn't really like the ST-5 all that much either. It was kind of slow and tended to instability, it had unremarkable armor and it was a superbly cramped for a vehicle three stories tall. And the vehicles overcrowded insides were only amplified by the ST-5 needing a crew of seven. A commander up top in the cupola, the driver, the main gunner, and a loader in the main compartment, A secondary gunner for each of the side turrets and a radio operator/engineer in the pelvis.

It was a lot of people for a very specialized vehicle that didn't see much use outside of the snow-blasted Siberian Taiga forests, where five foot snow drifts could freeze a tank column in its tracks.

Granted it was still an improvement over earlier models. A 76mm F-32 had replaced the cartoonishly oversized 152mm M-10 Howitzer, fixing the tendency for the vehicle to knock itself over when firing the main gun, the side turrets had been standardized, with an auto-loading 45mm 20-K cannon and a 7.62 DT machine gun in each turret. Plus a completely redesigned engine and radiator system, combined with the newer, lighter armor made the vehicle substantially less terrible that its predecessors.

And her battalion's diminutive commanding officer absolutely adored the stupid things.

"Oh don't be so bashful Johan!" The other German in the walker, Rudel if she remembered correctly, chirped from the right side turret. "Plenty of Panzers with legs after all."

"Fuck off Rudel; those all have at least four legs." The walker lurched dangerously and Johan started swearing. "Stability, Fuck!"

"Cut the chatter you morons." The tinny voice of Oleg, the walker's commander echoed through her leather helmets earpiece. "And Johan, please at least TRY to drive in a straight line. We're falling behind the Kharkovchankas were supposed to be escorting." Nina didn't need to be sitting in the cupola to know he was holding his frost-masked covered face in a gloved hand.

Her thoughts fell pack into place as the walkers gait straightened somewhat. Their deployment at all was odd. Twenty five ST-5's and twenty Kharkovchanka exploration vehicles with sleds full of equipment. It was extremely odd.

It was an awful lot of firepower to send looking for a meteor.

That was a job for a single NKL-26, not an entire armored battalion, plus technical support.

"Hey Rudel." Nina called up to the German gunner in the turret across from Anya. "Any idea what's up with all this?"

He snorted. "Well if we're lucky I would say we find an actual meteor." Nikolai's laughter echoed from his seat in the gunner's chair and the Slavic boy interjected. "And if were not so lucky we'll find something else, then we find ourselves in a NKVD interrogation room."

Oleg's sigh echoed in her earpiece. "Nina, call up the observers in the TSH-3, See if they can see anything." He ordered.

"Nina blinked before replying. "Rodger, Commander." Straining against the straps that held her to the seat she quickly flipped the main radio on, quickly flipping to the observation plane's frequency. "This is TZ-73 to BO-3, requesting an update on your observations. Over"

The radio sputtered and the walker lurched. This time Nina's head did hit the radio. The pilots voice started over the crackling wireless as she cursed Johan's ancestry and blessed the inventor of the tanker's helmet. And after several seconds of concentration the pilot's Finnish finally ceased to be gibberish. "73, I have a visual of the crash site at my 3 o'clock, bout a kilometer out. Over"

"Roger. BO-3, please give convoy course correction, Over"

"Wilco TZ-73, Turn right to a heading of 70 Degrees Northwest. Over"

"Understood BO-3."The radio popping as Rudel and Anya started tearing into each other over their last target practice through her helmets earpiece. "TZ-73 Out."

Nina was instantly flipping another switch to the convoy's radio channel. "BO-3 confirms crash location one kilometer away, convoy course correction, 70 degrees northwest. TZ-73 Out"

A blast of cold air shot down from the open commander's hatch as Oleg unbuttoned the cupola and the crew chatter in her helmet died instantly.

A flurry of confirmations and affirmatives echoed through the radio as the convoy's walkers lurched to a gallop into the darkened Siberian forests, crashing through waist deep snowbanks. Blood was in the water.

The hunt was on.

III

Katyusha stood on top of the ST-5, the vehicle was running at full gallop with the rest of the convoy through the icy Siberian night. To stand on a running ST-5 was an impressive feat of balance, one that she had long ago mastered.

It was a skill that she desperately needed, considering she couldn't actually see out of the opened cupola without a stool. She would never lower herself to something so ignominious.

It was one thing to sit on Nonna's shoulders; a stool was another thing entirely.

Plus she knew it made her look like a bad-ass. Standing on top of a walker at full sprint with her officer's cape blowing in the wind, the moonlight reflecting off the Order of the Red Star medal on her ushanka, she knew she made a striking figure. A glorious illustration for her troops to follow and aspire to.

At least she hoped that was what she looked like.

It was even a beautiful night. Ok that might have been a lie, it was cold as fuck, but it wasn't snowing and that meant that the scout plane would be able to see the target without having to kiss the tops of the pines.

To make it even better, not five minutes ago one of the walker's radiomen had confirmed the location of the crash from the TSH-3 overhead, and she had immediately ordered her walkers rushing ahead of the exploration vehicles in a loose W formation.

The other walkers would flank the clearing from the cover of the forests leaving her ST-5 to enter the clearing first. The flanking maneuver was probably pointless, it was just a dumb rock after all, but it never hurt to be careful.

In a few seconds the lead three walkers had burst into the clearing, hers stomping to a stop less than a hundred feet from the crater and she instantly knew something was wrong.

Now Katyusha wasn't stupid. Self-absorbed, infantile, insecure, and bad tempered, absolutely. Even Katyusha could occasionally comprehend those traits that plagued her and those like her. But nobody would ever call her stupid.

And she knew what a meteorite looked like, and the thing in the crater was not a meteor.

Black metal, shaped vaguely like a cup, covered in little geometric bumps and ridges. It had clearly been fashioned by some unknown hand.

And it was very clearly incomplete.

A chilling thought crashed through her mind. 'We've missed something.' Katyusha felt her spine tingled as the other walkers stomped into the flanks of the clearing.

The other ST-5 commanders were half out of their cupolas and Katyusha felt a chill that had nothing to do with the freezing temperatures as the Kharkovchankas bumbled into the clearing, heavy-duty tracks clattering as they dragged their sleds behind them.

'And I am being watched.' She could feel eyes on the back of her neck and she thumbed her pistol, regretting that she had left her PPSH-41 in the rack next to her seat.

The submachine gun would have to wait; there was no way to retrieve it without looking suspicious to whoever or whatever was watching her.

As the last of the vehicles entered the clearing, Katyusha spun on her heel, drawing her Tokarev in a smooth practiced motion.

It was almost too odd to shoot. Not fifty feet behind her, silhouetted against a snow covered pine, was the rest of the not-meteorite. The black metal lozenge shaped _thing_ floated level with her torso, three stories off the ground. A single glowing red eye in its center, focused unerringly on her. Four insectoid limbs twitched below it.

Her pistols snap-shot pinged off the metal near the _thing'_ _s_ top antenna. It let out a shrill, alien scream and Katyusha could hear voices shouting in Russian behind her.

As she focused her second shot to the glowing eye, the node below it glimmered blue.

In the next instant her pistol cracked and a trio of gleaming blue bolts spat from the protuberance. Her second shot hit home and the _thing_ dropped like a rock, Katyusha spun atop the vehicle, hoping that turning to the side would present a smaller target.

Her cape swirled as she turned too far. Then someone jabbed a hot iron into the back of her shoulder, a searing pain exploded through her body and she was falling off her walker as her legs gave out.

III

The room sat in stunned silence as the holo finished playing.

"Those were some nasty looking walkers." Anakin was the first to speak.

Amidala shot a worried look around the room. "I hope the little girl was ok."

"For everyone's sake so do I." Bail started. "That probe droid might have caused a diplomatic incident." He sighed and leaned back into his chair. "I certainly see why the natives might have misinterpreted the _Salutation_ 's presence."

"So we need to mount a rescue mission?" Obi-Wan's headache spiked as he questioned. "Or a diplomatic one and attempt to explain to the natives, in the most tactful manner possible, that our actions meant no harm?"

"I would hope we could manage both." The Chancellor interrupted with a diplomatic look.

"You're assuming that everyone didn't die on this mission the Intelligence Department threw together." Ion shot back from next to his father, with barely restrained anger.

Chuchi and several other senators visibly flinched at his accusation and Hival paled considerably as the implications sunk in. "Let's not jump to conclusions, even if they were shot down, they are not defenseless." He reassured them. "Your Padawans have their training in the Jedi arts and the Cadets are far from helpless themselves."

"And are the cadets well-armed?" Bail probed.

"Of course, not even counting the various battle-droids they're probably better armed than most militia units, a couple of the richer parents sponsored the purchase of heavier weapons and equipment for the battalions use."

"And they would be under standard first contact protocols correct? Protect the diplomats and scientists, as well as technology and information until given orders otherwise?" Obi-Wan continued understanding what Organa was getting at.

"Obviously they have the standard orders…" He trailed off realizing what that could mean.

"Well isn't this grand news." Aayla sighed with a hand on her forehead. "If everyone didn't die in the crash they might have started a war with the already obviously jumpy natives."

"If I may interrupt," the Chancellor said softly from the front of the table "I don't believe that arguing about this matter will bring us any closer to resolving this issue." He straightened and nodded at Baron Notluwiski. "We should begin organizing fleet components for a rescue mission as soon as is possible." He withered slightly at Padme's glare. "And I would like to see a diplomatic party being organized as well."

* * *

There's the first chapter of my crazy idea.

I will try to keep chapters to between twenty and thirty pages long, but I will make no guarantees. If you like the story, have ideas, comments or criticism you would like to share, feel free to leave a review. Or don't do that I don't really care as I am really writing this mostly for my own amusement.

I have quite a bit planned out ahead though, and lots of explaining to do in later chapters. Rest assured that everything will be explained sooner or later. I'll also be posting some analysis of the various vehicles and weapons used during the Clone Wars in a separate place from the main story.

 **Next Time on Hearts of Iron** : Papanoida has an aneurism and Lucchini has a religious experience.


	2. Chapter 2

Well chapter two is finally here for all of you to enjoy.

I also did some minor editing to the first chapter. Mostly realizing that Chuchi is the Senator for Pantoria, and not Notluwiski Papanoida, so I went and fixed that. I think I thought his name was Ion, which is the name of his son. (Probably because I don't think they ever actually use his first name in the episode he is in.)

And that my dear readers, is the importance of Wiki.

However I probably should mention that I own nothing… Except a laptop, I do own one of those.

I suppose this chapter is in many ways dedicated to the new Star Wars Battlefront, It is after all the primary reason it took so long for me to get this out.

But enough of that nonsense, you're here for the story.

 **Hearts of Iron: Chapter II –Of Aneurysms, Italians and Aneurysms caused by Italians.**

* * *

 **Greater War Room 21XV, Coruscant - The Galactic Republic**

Obi-Wan shifted in discomfort as Padme Amidala attempted to burn a hole through his head, with nothing but a mean look, for his most recent attempt to make everyone see reason.

Anakin's snickering at him from across the table certainly wasn't helping.

They had been at this for almost three hours already. Every time Chairman Papanoida, or one of the other senators with children in the lost Republic Cadet battalion, finished demanding an immediate armed reaction, Padme, or one of the other senators with her, would stand and decry a military intervention.

Half of the room wanted a peaceful resolution, and the other half was baying for blood. The worst part is they both had perfectly valid points based on what little information they all had available.

He smiled gratefully as an aid brought him the fifth cup of tea in less than an hour, he really did need to lay off the stuff but he knew his headache would be back with reinforcements if he did.

Bail stood up, looking as tired of arguing as Obi-Wan felt. "I have to agree with Kenobi on this one." Everyone snapped to attention. "Further arguing about this will get us nowhere, and it is clear that both sides will not back down." He continued undaunted as various glares intensified. "So it is obvious that a compromise will be needed to resolve this dispute." He raised his hands in placation as several people stood to interrupt. "I propose we send both a diplomatic force lead by Senator Amidala, as she seems the most adamant of everyone here on a peaceful resolution. That will arrive first. A second military force will follow us, only to approach the planet if things go south."

As various senators moved swiftly to disagree, Palpatine moved even swifter, "I think that your proposal will be one everyone can agree on." He fixed the assembly with his best, 'stern grandfather' look, and everyone abruptly sat back down.

Obi-Wan hid a smirk behind his teacup, the Chancellor generally didn't strong-armed anything so openly. But when he did, he certainly meant business.

The man himself clapped his hands together, a pleased smile on his face. "Now that we have settled on a decisive plan of action we can begin organizing both forces."

He nodded at Amidala and she began. "I have a brand new J-Type diplomatic barge and it carries a quartet of N-1 Starfighters, which should be more than sufficient for my needs."

"You're forgetting your Jedi escort." Anakin piped up from the corner, still smiling but looking slightly more seriously than before.

"And at least a squad of Senate Commandos…" The Chancellor gave Padme a stern look.

Obi-Wan sighed quietly as Padme gave him an understanding if disgruntled look. "Chancellor, with all due respect I strongly believe the presence of an armed force would agitate the locals. A lack of arms may be the show of good faith that's the deciding factor in negotiations."

He nodded genially. "I agree completely, however you will be representing the entire galaxy and some level of decorum must be maintained." He paused considering his options. "I'll concede the commandos are likely an unnecessary measure, however I must insist on a squad of Senate Troopers," he raised his hand to cut off her disagreement, "armed only with force pikes," Obi-Wan sipped his tea as he continued, "plus at least one Jedi, approved by the council, to act as an adviser." He nodded in the direction of Yoda and the rest of the Jedi.

A smile passed Obi-Wan's lips as he felt the chaotic ripples in the force smooth as the room relaxed, decisions were finally being made, and that placated the anxious Senators.

Notluwiski Papanoida rose from his seat to his full height, sending a swell on the force, his face openly exasperated. "I worry that even that will not be enough to ensure your safety senator." He paused for a moment, looking unusually tired. "The natives have already shown an abnormally aggressive nature, think of how they responded to the probes arrival. They sent an army to find something they should have thought was a meteor!" He fell back into his seat. "I fear for the safety of the cadets, Senator Amidala." Obi-Wan and the other Jedi in the room frowned as a physical weariness leaked from the man into the force, mixing with a growing fear in several other Senators.

Obi-Wan spoke quietly. "You should get some rest Chairman." The man nodded listlessly and sighed.

"I suppose giving myself a stroke won't help anyone." He shot a look across the table as he and his son Ion stood to retire for the evening.

After he and Ion left, Chuchi rose looking nervous. "In the absence of Chairman Notluwiski I volunteer myself to advise the armed task-force, in the interest of those present with Cadets at stake."

Palpatine blinked, scanned the room with his eyes, and then sighed quietly. "I suppose you're not going to be reasoned with?" Chuchi shook her head. "Alright I'll leave the overseeing of the task-force's operations to your discretion." Seeing no objections he continued. "I think Major Ozzel should be available to command this endeavor." He gave a grandfatherly smile. "He just returned from a battle near Bothawui."

Obi-Wan frowned as he took another sip, feeling the disapproval from the other Jedi through the force. Major Kendal Ozzel was a well-known buffoon, putting him in charge of anything more complicated than system patrols was bound to end in disaster.

Although knowing Ozzel he could find a way to screw that up too…

Before he could protest, Palpatine shot a knowing look at Padme. "And I'm going to guess you won't want a large fleet presence?"

Padme frowned in response. "I would rather not aggravate the natives any more than they probably already are."

"I believe I can get Fleet Command to scrounge up a few of those new Arquitens-class Light Cruisers, would that be sufficient Senator?" He smiled in relief as Padme nodded; Chuchi looked like she wanted to protest for a more sufficient force but simply settled for a sigh.

As the meeting finally began winding down Mace stood, radiating determination through the Force. Obi-Wan squashed the fleeting impulse to Force push the other master through the room's window and decided to see if whatever he was about to do would cause another threehour argument first.

"With all due respect Chancellor, is there anyone else available to lead the task-force? As much as I am sure we all respect Major Ozzel," Obi-Wan had to physically stop himself from snickering, "he is not exactly known for his… delicacy." He shot Obi-Wan a cautious look from the corner of his eye. "I have a feeling that this mission is not suited to his particular skill set."

The Chancellor gave a small chuckle. "Come now Master Windu, have you so little faith in the good Senators?" He gave a nod to Chuchi and Amidala, who had stood and moved to a corner of the room to speak privately. "If all goes well, the military force won't be needed at all," he began walking toward the door, "and if things go poorly we can always send a larger force." He declared as he strode from the room.

Obi-Wan stood and walked up to the frowning Mace. "He's messing with us on purpose."

"Mace," Obi-Wan replied with a small smile, "the Chancellor is too shrewd to fall for such a direct approach."

Mace's frown deepened. "And how would you deal with him?"

"Make him think your idea was his all along, you must." Yoda pipped up as he hobbled out the door.

III

 **2/25/95, Switzerland – Somewhere Above the Border to Italy**

Francesca Lucchini was bored.

That alone was normally enough to send people running.

But today she was especially bored…

Here she had come, to the greatest of Europe's meat grinders, one of the places where three of the four world superpowers sent masses of fresh, bright-eyed, young soldiers for their first tour of duty. To return home as grizzled combat veterans or corpses…

And nobody had fired a shot in almost three weeks.

In actuality, all three high commands had ordered their ground forces withdrawn to the furthest fortifications, to help discourage any "incidents". Leaving the massive maze of the trench land completely abandoned.

The almost constant thunder of artillery and anti-aircraft guns, the cheerful chatter of machine gun positions… all silenced, no toxic gasses slipped slyly over the blasted earth to poison unsuspecting infantry. The clumsy duels of green and greener pilots didn't play through the skies; no bombers flew out to drop deadly payloads.

And it was so boring…

Lucchini had waited five long years to get here. Hoping for her first deployment to be in a place she actually would have the chance to actually dogfight, and when she had finally arrived, the party was apparently already over.

And so she sat of the cockpit of the Focke-Wulf 156, the German plane in new Italian colors. That her new commanding officers had so graciously provided it to her, probably having reassembled it from several different wrecks shot down earlier. Lucchini stared into the smoggy overcast and silently contemplated how bored she was, and how grateful she was that she had been chosen to be a pilot, and wasn't one of the poor bastards that had to fight it out in the endless maze of bunkers, trenches and artillery craters that had engulfed much of the mountainous nation between three warring superpowers.

"Not like there's any fighting going on anyways…" She griped aloud as a pair of far off Bulldogs flew low and relatively fast over what was probably the British or French reserve line. The biplanes would have made good kills; provided their defensive flack guns didn't peg her, but her commander would tear her more than a few superfluous holes if she disobeyed the very clear orders she had been given.

Her Flight Lieutenant, Giuseppina Ciuinni, had been quite clear on the matter. "Don't get into any dogfights with the Allies, don't get into any dogfights with the Axis, and for fucks sake Lucchini don't get into any fights with our own forces." She could almost hear the ever forgetful Lieutenant's frustrated voice still lecturing her. "Just get the booze and get your scrawny butt back here."

That had been over an hour ago, and she had spent the in-between time scanning the silent landscape, and flying through smoggy overcast night skies.

Even arriving had been boring. A completely average landing on another reserve airfield, followed by tracking down a bored Brazilian officer, even the booze itself had been in a big sealed container which was no fun at all… 'No Lucchini, bad Luchinni! No lightweight's flying drunk!" The voice of her flight school's instructor blasted through her head and smashed the devious thought.

The dark clouds flashed dimly overhead and her radio hissed oddly, Francesca's brain barely registered it, too wrapped up in idle thoughts to pay attention to what was probably just a far off thunderstorm.

Besides Francesca even knew who was to blame for her boredom. "The Bolsheviks and the Fascists…" The tiny Italian pilot hissed under her breath, conveniently ignoring the fact that Italy was itself a fascist nation.

The top brass was trying to keep the whole thing quiet, but everyone had heard something. You couldn't stop the greatest war in human history dead in its tracks without having some sort of reason after all.

Something had crashed in the USSR according to the gossip around base… something not of this world, if the rumors were to be believed.

And to add insult to injury the Soviet officer leading the armored unit investigating the thing had apparently gotten a medal for killing it. Lucchini rubbed her fabric flight helmet, 'lucky bastard…' she thought.

"What chance do I have of enemies just falling from the sky?" It was just an idle thought on her part, but it seemed to carry all the weight of the voice of God.

A second later a bold of incandescent crimson slammed through the overcast about a mile off her left wing, screaming bloody murder the whole way down. Lucchini took a moment to simply gawk in disbelief as the object suddenly decelerated, shedding the bubble of super-heated atmosphere as it slowed from terminal velocity to something that couldn't quite be called a soft landing. Pancaking into the now empty trench lands with far less force than something like the super heavy artillery shell that she had initially assumed it to be.

Lucchini whooped with glee, pitching her plane's nose to the ground with a pleased grin, the dive speed on the 156 wasn't great but that was ok. She needed to float. He neck craned and she looked out of the bubble cockpit, past the fog into the blackened sky. There were lots of red dots in the night sky.

Her hand unconsciously flipped her radio to an open channel. "Uh… hey guys… anybody on the wireless?" Her planes radio was a piece of shit, to put it lightly, but sometimes she could get a message back to the airfield. And considering that the trenches were empty right now contacting the reserve lines was about all she could hope for.

" _The hell did you do you Italian piece of shit!"_ Her wireless screamed at her in French.

Francesca blinked at the gibberish spewing from her radio, and pointed the nose of her Focke-Wulf towards the object before replying. "Hey… any of you guys speak Italian?" Her plane dove slowly towards the crash site; meanwhile the red lights in the sky were getting larger.

" _Seriously Clostermann, can you not be an abrasive asshole for like five minutes?"_ This bit of gibberish was in English. " _I mean seriously… how one Italian could have possibly caused that._ " Lucchini didn't speak English but the voice sounded derisive.

Francesca knew she would need all her elegance and English speaking skills to communicate successfully "Bulldogs! Look up!" Both planes pitched down instinctively reacting. " _God Damn!_ " The dismissive voice from earlier, having caught sight of the odd streaks of fire shrieking towards the place where the first had landed, began shouting into the radio as the pair of ungainly biplanes promptly de-assed as fast as their oversized Jupiter engines could propel them.

Lucchini pulled the throttle back, turning the Focke-Wulf 156 into a wide loop of the apparent landing zone as tank sized metal pods slewed into the ground in front of her.

"Two, three, four, five," She didn't stop counting until the last pod hit the ground, "Fifty."

The two Bulldogs were back, circling warily above their own lines, now lit up like Christmas trees with spotlights. 'Cowards.' Francesca thought as she spun her plane around, intending to make a low observation pass over the half mile square of land the pods were spread over.

As she swooped down to buzz the landing zone the big metal eggs hatched, in the darkness the foggy ground was swarming with strange scuttling shapes.

Then something the size of a small skyscraper dropped through the cloud cover almost on top of her going _way too fucking fast_.

 **Hardcell-class Interstellar Transport, "** _ **Salutation**_ **" – Somewhere on Aldebaran 4**

Junior Lieutenant Colonial Riker Linnet's face hurt.

This wasn't exactly an unusual occurrence, Riker had always fancied himself a bit of a playboy and the girls on Kuat tended to hit pretty hard.

Actually that was one of the reasons his parents had had enlisted him in the Republic Cadets in the first place.

As he lay on the floor, slowly regaining consciousness, he examined his situation. 'OK, face hurts, why?' Coming up with and answer took longer than he usually would have liked. 'Is it because I took my helmet off like an idiot? And hit my head on something?'

With that thought the dizzy, lightheaded feeling that had clouded his thoughts since he had awoken vanished, leaving only a cold feeling filling his stomach as he remembered why he was on the floor.

The Xenology experts had just retired to the ships lounge to argue over the newest recorded gibberish when Corporal Lut, who was manning the sensor console, reported three objects had been detected in low planetary orbit. Director Argonne had promptly left the bridge under Riker's command so he could go notify the eggheads.

Not five minutes of relative monotony had passed before the three objects deployed fifteen smaller, faster objects. The three original objects had then begun a slow de-orbit maneuver and the fifteen small ones had continued on what Lut had assured him would only be a close pass.

"Closest one'll pass about a quarter mile from our stern." The stubby Corporal had assured him.

He had been right too, of course by the time they had a good enough sensor lock to figure out that they were not invitations to a welcoming party it had been too late to move the ship to avoid them.

What followed had been the brightest, most violent five seconds of his life. His corneas still burned from the intensity of it.

And he had probably slammed his head against the command console when the ship had started to spin out of control!

Still lying on the floor he thought harder than he had ever before. If the _Salutation_ had fallen from orbit he should be dead, and hadn't the Jedi always said that being dead was a painless thing?

As he pushed himself off the floor, the world spun with black spots, a helmeted head suddenly filled his vision. "Good morning Major!" The irregular star on the helmets brow identified the irritatingly crisp, no nonsense voice as Junior Major, Sila Wilik.

"Morning Sila," he grinned in amusement as she helped him off the floor, "you know as much as I like waking up to a pretty girl, I thought you were a lesbian?"

Her head tilted and the frown on her face-mask became more pronounced. It was a look that said one more quip out of you and I'll vent you from an airlock. "Sir, how hard did you hit your head?"

"Ignore that for now Major." Now standing up, he glanced around the ships now trashed bridge. "So, what happened while I was out, and why didn't anyone wake me?"

"We were a tad busy stopping the ship from lithobraking at orbital velocity." A gravelly voice he immediately identified as belonging to one of the battalions tech experts Mark Atile grumbled, his upper body almost completely jammed inside a damaged control panel. "As much fun as waking you from your beauty sleep and listening to you scream like a little girl while we free-fell through the atmosphere would have been, it wasn't really a priority."

A peek through the windows revealed a dark and dreary sky. "So what exactly happened while I was out?" Something flashed in the gray skies. "I'm assuming that those contacts from earlier weren't the openhearted greeting we were hoping for."

Mark snorted and his arm slid out of the computer he was disemboweling, throwing a fistful of wiring onto the floor. "I'm almost one hundred percent sure they were nuclear warheads of some type. Nothing else I can think of would have been able to generate that great of a power to weight ratio. They didn't even hit us and they blew the shield generators from absorption overload, and short-circuited half the electronics in the ship."

Sila hissed beneath her breath as Mark continued grumbling about cheap Techno Union electronics. "Well after the stabilizers shorted out your face had an unscheduled meeting with the captain's control panel, we ended up free-falling into the upper atmosphere."

"And we're not dead why?"

"Apparently Po is more competent that we gave her credit for. She managed to get the computer core restarted from engineering during the free-fall."

"Ok, somebody is getting a promotion, but I'm sensing a "but" there."

"Don't worry there absolutely is one." Sila bent down and picked up a helmet from the floor, and Riker realized it was his; she tossed it to him before continuing. "Apparently the scum-sucking morons they got to program the ship and the droids on-board didn't actually overwrite the core programming, just coded over it," Riker looked up from his helmets frowning face and raised a questioning eyebrow at her uncharacteristically colorful language. "Her words not mine."

"And that means?" He had a strong suspicion of exactly what it meant already but wanted to hear it from her.

"It means that when she restarted the mainframe the ships original programming kicked in, thankfully we're apparently still considered friendly forces. But that, plus the damage to the ships physical controls means we no longer have command of the ship, which is why we ended up landing on the surface."

"And why the Droids were deployed." Mark chipped in as he withdrew completely from the computer dropping a hydrospanner as he struggled to get his arms around a bundle of electronics.

Riker just groaned. "Where's the director?"

"In the medical bay," was Wilik's curt reply.

"Why?" Riker asked, feeling exasperation flood his tone.

Mila simply gave a crisp nod. "He was apparently injured worse than you were."

"And the eggheads?" He didn't like where this was going.

Thunder pealed outside as Mark replied. "Most of them are in engineering, with Po."

"The Jedi?"

"In the medical bay, seeing to the director and the other injured," Sila answered.

"So… what do we do now _Captain_?" Mark asked in an only slightly mocking tone as Riker slid his helmet on.

And that really was the question wasn't it? With the director out of commission he was "technically" in charge of the ship.

First things first, he needed to finish getting information on their situation. "Sila, what have the droids been doing?"

"The ship's computer deployed the drop pods ahead of our touchdown; the deployed probe and crab droids have formed a loose perimeter around our landing zone. The Vulture droids are still docked to the outer hull."

"Get them deployed, we need to shore up our perimeter." He turned to Mark as Mila nodded and started speaking over her helmets headset. "So Mark…" Riker drawled. "Why exactly are you disemboweling the computer terminals?"

His helmet glared back past an armful of electronics. "We need working parts to set up a new command center." Something in the room's corner sparked. "The EMP from those bombs melted a distressing number of electronics, and a lot of the computers here are garbage." He waved at the mostly unlit computer terminals around the room.

Well it looked like he didn't need to worry about getting a command center running, but Riker was still a little insulted he had been left unconscious on the floor. He supposed that just left securing the ship then reinforcing the perimeter.

"Alright Mark get the ship up and running again, tell Po we need the mainframe back under our control ASAP. Sila I want you to see if you can get the vulture droids online, we need them up and running.

Mark nodded and swept out of the room with his computer parts. "Where are you going?" Sila asked him as they turned to follow Mark.

Riker gave her a small smirk. "I figured I'd get an expeditionary force together and go and greet the bastards that shot us down."

"Just try not to get killed." She rolled her eyes at him and marched towards the ships storage.

Riker smirked in triumph and hurried down another hallway towards the mess. If he knew his cadets, and he did, they would be arguing about the current disaster over food.

 **2/25/95, Switzerland – Third Allied Defensive Line, Fortification 144**

When Orange Pekoe walked up onto the stronghold's concrete battlements, for the second time that day, she wondered again what the heck had happened to make this particular group of Japanese so crazy.

She had thought when command had said that they were going to get some veterans of the Hunan Campaign; that they would be less weird than the battalions the Japs had already sent to help man the giant naval guns scattered throughout the second and third defensive lines.

That meager hope had been dashed completely when this group had turned out to be even crazier; the five had been transferred less than a week into the ceasefire and their commanding officer hadn't left the parapets yet. Considering they had arrived almost three weeks ago, Pekoe was sure the MP was more than a little unhinged…

Then again her commander had a habit of collecting and wearing random outfits when she wasn't spouting random idioms, Pekoe liked to think she was almost used to people being crazy. Living in close proximity to Darjeeling, one tended to become desensitized.

But even their arrival had been weird. She hadn't really known what she had been expecting when she had heard they were getting decorated advisers. The brass had simply sent a very official looking form notifying her that the group had experience in driving the Russians back during their big push into Chinese territory a few years back, that they had been integral in beating back an entire German tank platoon.

She should have known better, when the customized SS-D Minesweeper had come rolling down the road in its muddy grey camouflage, but it wasn't until she had seen the fist-sized hole in the front plate she had finally started getting uneasy.

When it pulled out of the rain and into their vehicle bunker, a hatch had opened. The smallish girl in an Imperial Japanese Marine uniform had introduced herself as Yuuki Utsugi in passable Engrish, and immediately asked if they were in Sweden.

Pekoe had proceeded to inform her, as politely as possible, that Sweden was part of the Northern Reich under Finland, that they were on the border of France and that they were indeed where they were supposed to be.

The five had then piled out of the vehicle, Yuuki plus three identical individuals in full Japanese MP Riot gear and a tiny, sleepy looking girl in an orange driving jumpsuit.

The apparent leader of the MP trio had marched up to her at a brisk pace and she experienced a slight feeling of intimidation at the medals on the girl's armored chest plate. Then she actually got close enough for Pekoe to realize that even in full riot gear the girls helmet head only barely reached her eye level.

And Pekoe knew that she wasn't even all that tall.

In crisper English than Yuuki, she introduced herself as Midoriko Sono, and her compatriots as Moyoko Gotou and Nozomi Konparu. She then introduced their driver, who had slumped down next to their SS-D and presumably passed out, as Reizei Mako.

What followed had been, for Pekoe anyway, an exercise in futility. As the three decorated MP's had promptly marched their way into the arms depot, stolen a pair of field glasses and an anti-tank rifle and set up shop on the battlements, staring out at no-mans-land.

That had been three weeks ago and so far, they had been content to sit and watch the empty trenches… well the three MP's had. Reizei had spent most of the time sleeping in their "personal" minesweeper and as far as Pekoe could tell Yuuki was the only one doing anything close to what they had been sent there to do. Attempt to advise Darjeeling.

Orange Pekoe wished her the best of luck; God knew she had been trying to do the same thing for over a decade without success.

And to top it off Darjeeling had "ordered" her and Assam to help the newcomers acclimate to their new environment, which meant among other things, bringing them food when they decided to fall prey to paranoid delusions and spend three weeks watching empty trenches.

And speaking of Assam, the girl in question leaned over Sono's shoulder as she approached the group on the fortifications. "You know Midoriko, a watched pot never boils."

Pekoe took every ounce of her willpower to not drop the tray of food and throw her over the wall, and simply settled on a deep breath instead of murder.

Yuuki, Gotou and Konparu stared.

Sono glared daggers.

Reizei snapped awake with a snort. "Sodoko if you keep making faces like that it'll stick like that."

Sono's head swung like a battleships main gun until it was pointed at her completely unfazed driver.

While the pair drifted into arguing in Japanese, Assam turned back to her. Pekoe continued to gawk. Assam had been infected, she was sure of it.

"You're staring really oddly at me Pekoe, do I have something on my face?"

Pekoe intensified her gaze. "Just how much time have you been spending with Darjeeling?"

Assam opened her mouth to spew lies in her defense but the buzzing of airplane engines cut her off.

In a flash "Sodoko" had drawn a pair of binoculars and was sweeping the darkened sky with all the paranoia of a seasoned combat veteran.

Pekoe set the tray of food down next to Mako, who promptly stole a biscuit, and glanced into the darkened skies. "Calm down Sono, it's probably just the Buffalo's flying another patrol."

"Actually, I think they should be back by now." Assam interjected as unhelpfully as possible.

Everyone on the bastion twitched…

Then the air raid siren started, low and mournful at first but sweeping into a panic inducing crescendo in only seconds, anti-aircraft guns swung towards the dull sky and the great spotlights flashed onto the clouds.

As people scrambled to battle stations Pekoe noticed Sono was still locked in place staring out across the trenches. "I'll be damned, it's not Germans this time." She hissed low, beneath her breath.

"What?" Pekoe replied quietly, Assam and the other Japanese had ditched into the massive concrete fortress, left Pekoe alone with what she considered to be a barely stable MP. "Surely it isn't the Italians?" The Neo-Romans were many things but she didn't think they were dumb enough to break a ceasefire like this.

Sono only pointed towards the south and Pekoe finally realized what she had been staring at through the field glasses. In the distance, through the fog above the trenches she could see little specks of light against the clouds, spotlights from the German and Italian fortresses that pierced the gloom in search of something.

And for a brief moment it was almost calm, if one ignored the shrieking of the siren. Everyone, whether sitting strapped into an anti-aircraft gun or in the bottom of one of the conveniently nearby slit trenches stared wide-eyed at the sky.

They were not disappointed. A streak of brilliant crimson fell from the sky like an angel banished from the heavens, at an angle too steep to be an artillery shell or some falling plane, disappearing into the maze or trenches between the different, usually warring factions.

And for the next several minutes a flurry of crimson streaks followed after the first. Screaming through the clouds and dropping into the trenches.

When the smoke settled there was only a lone single-engine fighter flying a loose circle around the landing site.

Then as the pilot took the plane into a dive, presumably to get a closer look, a small skyscraper dropped from the clouds, almost landing on top of the poor guy.

"Interesting isn't it Sono?" Spoke a voice from Pekeo's immediate left as the _building_ slowed to a crawl with a massive incandescent blast below it, landing like some giant version of a Focke-Wulf Triebflügel.

Pekoe nearly had a heart attack at Darjeeling's question, the woman having managed to arrive onto the rampart completely unnoticed. Sono for her part showed no more surprise than a sharp inhalation.

"I wouldn't exactly say that." Midoriko's eyes never left the glasses. "I see lots of movement near the base of the ship." Pekeo was barely paying attention to their conversation, having seen the distant little monoplane level out. "Sono what is that pilot doing." She asked the ornery MP as cautiously as possible.

The girl whipped the field glasses around for a moment before speaking. "I'd say that stupid Italian is strafing the landing zone." Her head popped back and she adjusted her kabuto's chinstraps and glanced at Darjeeling. "Are they even allowed to do that?"

Darjeeling, with a mysterious smile on her face, stroked her chin thoughtfully before replying. "Pekoe, Sono I want the two of you to get every soldier you can find. I'm going to call up the Fritz and see if they want to help us stop the Italian's from getting themselves killed."

Sono gave her a crisp salute, passed Orange Pekoe a rather bland look and started mumbling about the Macaroni's under her breath as they both ran back into the bunker's door to alert the rest of the base.

* * *

Sweet Christ was this chapter long in coming and I am very sorry about that.

I would blame Fallout 4 and Star Wars battlefront, and the new IL-2 expansions and a host of other things, but in reality I simply lost track of time between now and then.

So in that sense I am terribly sorry about it taking so long to get this chapter out and I hope future updates will take weeks not months.

But on the other hand there are fics on this site that have gone years between updates so… Hurrah for mediocrity?

As always, you may feel free to leave comments and criticisms, or speculate about the wholesomeness of my ancestry. I do read comments and will respond to questions, I'm just not always online so please be patient.

 **Next Time on Hearts of Iron** : Amidala learns that not everyone likes diplomacy, Miho reminisces about old wounds, and Hartmann and Barkhorn get lost in their own base…


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 is finally out, sorry it took so long… but to make it up to you guys this one is longer than the last two combined, let the celebrations begin!

In a " _completely"_ unrelated note, I have found an incredibly fun Star Wars mod for Homeworld 2 called Star Wars: Warlords. Then the Galaxy at War mod came out for Men of War: Assault Squad 2 and I've been fiddling around with the map editor for way too long.

Also, I saw the GUP movie and it was hilarious.

On another hand I have mostly finished writing up a little document analyzing the various vehicles and tactics used in the Clone Wars, mostly from the movie's and recent TV show, just for reference. Mostly to help me get a handle on the vehicles and tactics used by the Republic.

I might post it somewhere later.

But enough of the excess nonsense, you're all here for the story.

 **Hearts of Iron: Chapter III – Of Acid Dreams and the Evils of Architecture …**

* * *

 **Time: Unknown, Location: Unknown**

Miho peered through the slits in the little Panzer III's cupola. The three dozen tanks in her advanced force, Twenty four Panzer II Ausf. F's, and twelve Panzer II Ausf. L's splayed out on either side of her vision. Her command tank rocked hard as the unit struggled together slowly across the unusually rough Asian landscape. A place that the little voice in the back of her head said was unnatural.

'Unnatural' the word echoed through her head as she took in the view outside her little metal box, the world was as it had always been. Chocolate soil, the plants leaves spun from colored sugar and the multi-colored rock-candy mountains loomed vast in the distance, shrouded with their strangely geometric red clouds. There was even a river of fizzy blue tonic, which had cut the valley through the caramelized foothills their unit, was passing through.

It was a literal wonderland of sweets.

And it was apparently wrong.

Her infantry dismounted from the sides of the tanks as her forward units broke through the dense foliage of the mountain pass. Her troop, a multitude of faceless mannequins dressed in tattered Volkssturm uniforms, twitched as they hopped down and swung their MP 308's to bear.

A gingerbread village lay in the distance, veiled by the shapely reddish fog. Around two dozen prefabricated huts, in classical Asian style stood there, built nestled up against the mountainside. Shadow figures in rice hats rushed around the little outpost, running to prebuilt barricades in the streets at the sight of her armor.

Miho set down her map and tilted her head as a few little chirps echoed off her tank's hull. She bent down and asked Schultz, who was her acting loader and radio operator to signal their trailing artillery.

Not five seconds later, ten booms echoed from wherever her unit's Wespe's had hidden themselves behind her main force.

The artillery shells whistled through the air, and the gingerbread village rippled under the barrage. Chunks of the chocolate earth mixed with pieces of frosted buildings and exploded into the sky, silhouette figures in the village were torn apart or went flying.

Another quiet command and Max had the twenty-four Ausf. F's in her forward force sprayed the freshly made rubble with their turrets machine-guns and 2cm cannons.

Then her toy Volksstrum surged forward, speaking with each other in their rapid whistling, they rushed through ruined facsimile of a village with an almost desperate speed. The sight made her sigh to herself quietly in her cupola, knowing why they didn't want to be where they were, doing what they were doing.

They wanted to be back in the relative safety of the candied jungles, beneath the canopies of spun sugar and behind dense foliage they were somewhat safe.

Out here in the open valley they were painfully exposed…

All it would take would be one spotter aircraft to catch sight of them, and the ground attackers would zero in, and that would end her little spree of luck real quick.

She frowned to herself at the dark thought, as the troops in the village finished off the few survivors and gave the all clear. She nodded down to Max, giving the signal for the tanks to advance past the village and her armor surged into the maze of fields beyond it, grinding the candy canes growing in the knee deep tonic water beneath their treads.

Somewhere deep inside, another Miho cried out in frustration.

She could see as they approached that they were not the first unit to arrive at the stricken SS unit. The gigantic KönigsLuthar walker rested belly down in the muck, crippled in the field. What remained of an obliterated Stummel transport lay upside own nearby and bodies of at least a two dozen Waffen SS lay dead around it and the larger walker, floating in the shallow greenish liquid around them. A squad of Fallschirmjager had arrived before her unit and they surrounded the crippled KönigsLuthar, and their leader was actually shouting at the captain of the SS unit.

And the familiar, steel haired officer was of course screaming back, as her crew tried in vain to get the hundred ton vehicle to pull itself from the muck.

'Yukari and Erika…' The thought pressed into the forefront of her mind from somewhere deep inside her subconscious.

She unbuttoned her hatch as her thirty-six vehicle tank platoon rolled into the field, an action that sent the little voice inside her screaming.

'Get back inside, you are not safe!' Inner Miho cried out. But she ignored the little voice, as she had been trained to. Fear was a useful tool, but it was never good to let it control oneself.

'After all', she let herself think grimly, 'we each have our own duties to attend to.'

Her tank rolled up to within ten yards of the struggling walker and she pulled herself from the cupola and dismounted, shouldering her own MP 308. As she walked up to the two arguing officers, her infantry fanning out in the field with her, their faceless heads' scanning the nearby forest of spun sugar trees with suspicion.

In contrast to the faceless goons under her command and theirs, the SS captain and the paratrooper squad leader had faces, though older than what would have fit their bodies, but she paid that detail no mind as she stood ankle deep in fizzing tonic.

After all, there were obviously more important things to attend to.

So she asked what was going on, and when they explained the situation to her, with as much sniping at each other as possible, they did so in an alien language, a wordless, tuneless speech, wholly devoid of any natural lip movements.

But she understood it anyway, the Fallschirmjager unit, and Yukari in specific, wanted to blow the remaining walker to pieces and escape the area. She was sure that Allied forces that had obliterated the Stummel would be mustering to the position.

Erika and the rest of her crew were obviously refusing, not wanting to loose such a valuable and powerful piece of equipment.

And as the highest ranking officer present, the decision now fell to her.

As she contemplated the decision, the voice inside began screaming in fear, slamming against the mental cage she had locked it behind. 'It's too late, get down… you need to get down.'

And from high above them, as quiet as a passing breeze, came a low hiss.

Then there was an audible crack that echoed across the field, as the hiss grew a little louder. Miho felt her body jerk violently but not under her control, and she felt herself fall back in slow motion. Watching the shock explode in Erika and Yukari's faces, seeing the Volkssturm behind them drop his gun in shock, a dozen piping voices called out for her in the alien tongue as she hit the water. Acidic pain blossomed in her shoulder and Yukari rushed over, and pulled her head back above the greenish tonic.

Then the world sped up again and the hiss became the roar of a Japanese 200mm rocket mortar bearing down on the field.

The world exploded.

A smoking Panzer II floated casually above her head as the paratrooper hugged her down into the tonic, with the broken candy canes digging into her back, like shards of glass.

When her senses returned Yukari was screaming, for covering fire, for a medic, for her orders, as Japanese and Chinses rifle fire poured from the trees.

Miho pulled herself up on Yukari with her good arm, ignoring the pain in her profusely bleeding shoulder. The sight of her infantry returning fire, using the tanks as cover gave her strength, and the tanks weren't slouching either, they ravaged the trees with explosive shells and machinegun fire.

Miho surveyed the field and inhaled, reading herself to take command.

Then Yukari's head burst with the sound of children's laughter, showering her with colorful confetti as the girl's body limply slackened, and dropped into the foamy tonic.

A dozen more of the oversized rocket-mortars fell screaming from the sky, tearing her forces to shreds, ruined tanks and pieces of faceless men flew through the air.

And the voice in her head raged. 'This isn't how this happened!' It slammed and screamed, while the shockwave of a mortar threw her across the field through the air.

She struggled up again, ignoring her pain, as the fire from the trees intensified and the scream of Japanese dive-bombers echoed from on high. The mighty KönigsLuthar exploded seconds later, throwing Erika against her with the terrible force of the explosion. The bleeding SS officer grabbed her from the mud by her collar and screamed at her. "Where is the juice?"

 **3/15/95, Berlin – Block O27, Officers Quarters, beneath the Reichstag**

Miho jerked upright in her bunk, nightshirt sticking wetly to her with cold sweat, as her shoulder throbbed with phantom pain. She turned to stare at the trio of SS troops that had kicked the door to her room in, demanding her to show them where her Jew was.

And somewhere deep inside her, a tiny voice bemoaned the fact that this wasn't even the first time something like this had happened this week.

The fact that two of the three were now alternating in staring in horror between the third, a pillow and hat on the ground and the bunk above her didn't do anything to make her less worried. Their horror didn't do anything to cool Erika's enraged glare either.

Nor did it do anything to assuage Erwin, who clearly didn't give a damn about whatever SS happened to want, and from the sounds of it was burrowing back into her covers as she devolved into colorful swearing. Presumably after throwing the pillow into Erika's face and knocking her black reserve hat, clean off her head.

Miho, being the more responsible of the two, took a deep breath and got up, tossing her covers off her as she reached for her shirt and jacket on her nightstand.

Erika, to her credit did no more than grit her teeth at the sight of the scar on Miho's shoulder.

Though it wasn't like she had really been expecting anything else; it had been years since the sight of the scar had filled the other girl's face with any palpable emotion, nothing like the fury and shame that it had once inspired.

She almost missed it.

But by now that time had long passed, the other girl did nothing more than glare at her, ignoring the discolored flesh as Miho hid it beneath her shirt.

Her two compatriots on the other hand were certainly less apathetic than she was, visibly flinching as she pulled her jacket over the shirt, letting the medals on its breast jingle.

Miho sat back down on her bedside and pulled her slacks on as the trio stared. "Look Erika, I've never asked you to get along with her. You're from the Schutzstaffel and she's a Fallschirmjager. Inter-service rivalry is something you guys do…" She left unsaid that the SS spent a significant amount of time actively antagonizing other service branches.

She took a calming breath before finishing. "And I know that her hair is really fluffy, abnormally fluffy but Yukari, as her name should well imply, is not even slightly Jewish." She waved her hand flippantly, and they eyes of the two flanking Erika followed it. "She's Germanized, not Semitic"

The trio blinked, almost in unison, before the trooper on Erika's right. Grubber something, if she was remembering properly, sought to correct her. "Not your Captain, Kommandant." He adjusted his hold on his MP-40 and pulled his glasses up. "Sergeant Goldstein, we caught him red-handed this time, he was stealing cigarettes from our supplies again."

"Then tell the Gestapo you idiots!" Rommel supplied helpfully from her bunk.

Miho shot a slightly irritated glance back at Erwin, before replying in agreement. "It _is_ their job Erika, not yours." She tried to smile, in what she hoped was a calming manner, as she pulled on her slacks and straightened out the last of her uniform. "And besides that, chasing someone through Berlin without a warrant or police issue weapons, is probably going to cause you more trouble than it's worth." Miho shrugged. "You never know who you'll run into." She hadn't meant to come out like a threat but Erika visibly tightened, and her companion's eyes snapped to the rank insignia on her newly donned dress uniform.

Now Miho had known Erika for years, and she knew her moods well enough to know that that had obviously been the wrong thing to say. The other girl had grown to resent her in recent years, and had obviously interpreted the advice as a threat to pull rank on her and her lackeys.

The grey-haired girl hissed beneath her breath, eyes narrowing. "The Gestapo answers to us, not the other way around." She replied in a venomous tone.

Rommel, maybe finally realizing that she wasn't getting anymore sleep interjected. "Last time I checked _Blackshirt_ ," She let the insult ooze off her tongue. "The Gestapo answered to the Führer." A shirtless Erwin hopped down and delivered a tired, but cocky smile. "And I can assure you, that neither of us have any idea where my idiot sergeant went."

Miho could almost hear Erika's teeth cracking, as she ground them in mute rage. But for once the lieutenant seemed to realize that the battle was not one she could win, at least not without making an absolute mess.

"Just make sure not to _accidently_ overlook his violation this time, Kommandant Rommel." She practically spat the parting shot at Erwin.

She snapped around and glared at the pair behind her as her patience finally broke down. "Raus! Schnell! Schnell!" Erika shouted at her compatriots, and the pair hopped to attention, swiftly saluting and departing the room. Erika stayed only long enough to cast a hateful, glaring salute at the pair before slinking after her squad mates.

Erwin shot Miho a frustrated look as the SS slunk away. "What an ungrateful cunt." She said, as she suddenly seemed to snap awake. "And we outrank her! Why the hell do we have to put up with her bullshit?"

Miho sighed, and decided to ignore her comment. "You'd better deal with this this time Erwin, or your sergeant is liable to find himself locked inside a working furnace."

Erwin snorted, and ran a hand through her messy hair. "He's just looking out for the Korps." She scoffed and fumbled around the room for her shirt. "God knows the SS get enough favoritism around here." She turned to Miho. "Is your shoulder bothering you today?" She asked in a more caring tone.

Miho stood and pulled the shirt from between Erwin's blankets and handed it to her. "Not much," she rolled her arm experimentally, and hid a wince as it throbbed in sympathy with her fading dream, "maybe a little tight."

"Miho, we're in Berlin, not some Chinese shit-hole, morphine doesn't need to be rationed here." The blonde girl chided her, sighing to herself as she finished dressing. "But I suppose I should track down my Sergeant before the SS catch up to him. You want to help?"

Miho nodded slowly. "I suppose I've got nothing better to do today… besides paperwork."

"Not like those forms are going to go running off any time soon…" Erwin replied with a sly grin. "Besides, neither of our units has seen a proper deployment in weeks. Not too much paperwork on my end."

Miho gave a helpless little groan. "I've been trying to requisition some paint. Someone apparently thought it would be a good idea to paint one of my unit's 38(t) platoons gold."

Erwin frowned in indignation. "What' wrong with that?"

"Not desert cameo Erwin, metallic gold."

The blond flipped on her officer's cap. "Where would you even find that much paint around here?" She queried, gingerly pushed the bedroom door open and it literally fell off its hinges, making her wince. "So… hopefully the front door is in better shape than this one." She growled.

"Erika wouldn't destroy our quarters Erwin; she was angry, not suicidal." Miho said quietly as she moved into the little office they had made their living room into, ignoring the little piles of paperwork on the desks with only a slight pause. "See, the door is fine." Passing into the hall revealed that, indeed the front door was noticeably less kicked-in than the bedroom door had been.

Erwin face-palmed, "Great so they only broke the bedroom door…" she trailed off, "then where the fuck did they get the keys to our apartment?" She shouted at no one in particular.

"The Requisition's Department, they are SS" Miho shrugged, "or maybe Yukari forgot to lock the door?"

Erwin's eye twitched and her indignation intensified. "Don't even remind me." She shot a suddenly exhausted look at Miho as she locked their apartment door behind them. "Look, I know you like her, and she's pants-on-head obsessed with you. But for god's sake woman, my bed is less than four feet above yours."

Miho's face shot red from embarrassment, and she anxiously glanced down the hall at all the other apartment doors. "Erwin, not in public, I could get reprimanded!"

Her friend closed the distance between them with a single step, clasping both arms on her shoulders and staring her dead in the eyes. "Miho, I _need_ sleep, and there are plenty of forgotten quarters and storage rooms in Berlin, it's a big city, and I don't even think anyone around here knows even half the layout." She let go of Miho's shoulders, and lit a cigarette, as Miho stood blushing. "What I'm saying is have your little rendezvous somewhere else," she waved her hand dismissively as she took a drag, and they started down the hallway, "for my sanity if nothing else."

Thankfully, in Miho's opinion at least, that particular conversation trailed off rather soon, as they reached a checkpoint. The pair of bored, blatantly slacking Kriegsmarine Corporal's manning the checkpoint snapped to attention as the pair approached. "Achtung!" The first shouted at his friend as Erwin started grinning. "Good morning gentlemen… you two slackers wouldn't have happened to have seen _my_ Sergeant Goldstein recently, would you?" She finished with a tip of her cap.

Miho gave a small smile as the pair proceeded to tell them exactly where the other woman's wayward Sergeant had run off to. While there were plenty of the upper echelons in the Wehrmacht who preferred to teach how to rule thought fear and iron discipline, Miho had always felt that respect and admiration generally got better results. Case in point, they had learned exactly where Goldstein was currently… 'Well hiding probably isn't really the best term.' She thought to herself, but he was likely trying to avoid the SS regardless.

But while her opinion on management might not have been what her progenitor would have approved of, that wasn't to say that she wasn't going to help Erwin put the fear of god back into him when they finally caught up to him, if her friend actually needed help in that department.

But they weren't going to have him shot, like Erika would likely have wanted.

Getting to the Mess hall Goldstein had sequestered himself away in, took more than thirty-five minutes of brisk walking from the little checkpoint they had started at, Erwin had used the extra time to stew herself into a properly righteous fury.

Miho on the other hand felt her mind drifting back to figuring out who would be in charge of paint allocation in Berlin. It wasn't exactly something she had to check up on all that often. Seeing as she was usually stationed in Munich or Pravda anyway.

She smiled slightly at that thought; she would have to write Katyusha a letter of congratulations. The diminutive Russian had ribbed her often enough about getting her promotion for getting shot.

Now the shoe was on the other foot.

That smile slipped as Erwin continued to stew, she almost felt sorry for the other woman's unsuspecting sergeant. Various soldiers and engineers practically threw themselves out of there way as Rommel stormed down the halls with her greatcoat billowing.

Miho opened big wooden doors to the mess quietly with no more than a flicker of will. 'After all,' she concluded to herself, 'letting Erwin blasting down the door would send the wrong message.' While her friend was probably going to beat the poor boy senseless, there was no reason to panic the whole room out, or to let him know they were coming for that matter.

But the pall of smoke and glowing embers that poured from the opened doors nearly made her choke, it reminded her of sitting in one of the underground terminals, while several of the old coal driven locomotives pulled up.

She was actually impressed by it. It seemed that the sergeant had stolen more than just a few packs of cigarettes.

Erwin's rage doubled as she slid into the smog. And Miho could feel her wrath manifest as psychic energy, brushing against her mind as she set about filling the smoky, dimly lit room with a paralyzing power. Miho sighed as the other girl's influence purposely avoided a single figure sitting in the back of the hall, obviously her wayward sergeant.

She very much doubted the show of force was necessary, even with the unease that had permeated the city since the ceasefire had been called. It wasn't likely that anyone in the room was going to make a move against a pair of Generalleutnants, regardless of the Sergeants ability to acquire a ridiculous amount of illicit goods.

But she braced herself and followed dutifully in her friends footsteps, watching in mild embarrassment as hundreds of conversations died quiet, simultaneous deaths. Eyes flickered to the medals and emblems of rank on their uniforms and deft hands slid lit cigarettes beneath tables. No one snapped to attention, the entire room sat paralyzed at the direction of Erwin's power or in fear of reprimand.

Goldstein himself was seated casually at a table in the middle of the room, laughing amicably with a pair of Czech engineers, his back to the room's entrance.

The young man had no idea the fury that was coming for him.

His compatriots however saw his death approaching a mile away, and their eyes widened as they goggled at the two approaching generals, as she and Erwin walked up behind him. Miho stopped herself slightly behind Erwin, not wanting to get caught in the violence that she was doubtless about to lay into her sergeant.

He realized something was wrong a moment too late. "Hey guys, what the matt…?" In a smooth motion, Erwin' hand rose from the at rest position behind her back and into the air, cutting his voice away. The sergeant grabbed for his throat as he spun around in the air before Erwin dropped him on the floor.

He jumped up, snapping to attention with a sharp click of his boot heels, which made Miho wonder if getting hauled from his chair in such a manner was her friends' usual way of greeting him. "General Rommel," coughed into the smog quietly, "I certainly didn't expect to see you so soon, is our unit being deployed?" He asked in what he probably thought was an innocent manner.

Erwin was having none of it, as fast as a whip she drew her pistol, and for a tiny instant Miho genuinely believed her friend was going to shoot him in the face, in the middle of the crowded bar.

Fortunately for her sergeant, Erwin failed to meet that expectation, as she seemed bent on bludgeoning him to death slowly instead. Shouting as she began clubbing his arms with the butt of her Luger as he attempted to shield himself.

"You stupid bastard!" She hissed over snickers from other people in the room as the new dinner show started up. "How many times do I have to tell you not to get _caught_ stealing!" Her tone of voice made clear what Miho had already suspected during their walk. Erwin didn't really care that he had been stealing from the SS; only that he had been caught doing it.

While Erwin continued bludgeoning her subordinate senseless, uncaring of his halfhearted attempts to explain his actions. Miho felt a familiar presence flicker beyond the now closed doors, an aural rage she had already felt today, strong enough that several of those assembled in the room broke free from their own amusement to glance back to the doors.

Miho spun to look at the entrance as Erwin finished wearing herself out on her subordinate, and he took the opportunity to speak. "Come on sir, they only caught a glimpse of me." She heard him say.

Erwin's response came in the form of another round of clubbing's. "The Waffen SS broke into my apartment looking for you, you ass-candle! They are going to shoo-!" Her dispensing of retribution was interrupted mid-sentence, as the great wooden doors to the hall slammed into the walls with so much force that Miho had first thought that they had exploded.

Then two dozen, MP-40 toting, Waffen SS barreled into the room with Erika at their head, and every single person in the room besides herself reached for a gun.

'I knew I should have just stayed in bed today.' Miho thought glumly. 'Dreaming of Henan was safer by far.'

And just like that, she had to suppress a smile, as the solution to all her issues became obvious.

Miho reached out, plucking one of the contraband cigarettes from the lips of a paralyzed Pole. Bringing it to her lips and drawing in the psychic aftershock from Erwin's earlier outburst. That irritation and frustration, focusing on the earlier memory, letting the boiling energy draw back what she had been attempting to bury earlier.

She watched Erika's eyes, as they scanned the room to land on Goldstein, and the girl gave a bloodthirsty grin. That triumphant look that was cut short by a pale little Pole in a ruffled Gestapo uniform that seemed to have taken exception to her and the other SS goons attempting to do his job.

Not that he was even trying to do his job, but Miho figured that was neither here nor there.

And she didn't really care about the lines Erika was willing to cross for revenge either. She barely even noticed as the heat of the memory and of that place, seeped into her flesh. That she could walk over to a furious Erika just like she had all those years ago, without any hesitation at all.

It was like she was watching a stranger pilot her body, there was a sense of disconnect. The feeling brought back memories of one of her first lesson, back when she had only been a junior officer. She had been only a small child, when her instructor had taken her and her siblings to a special room and had a Psycher who specialized in control of the mind, puppet them one at a time.

The point of those lessons, or so they had been told, was to help them to recognize if they were being controlled or subverted mentally, then to teach them to fight against such things, and afterward how to use that same power on weak minded subordinates placed under their command.

After all, "Domination is the dominion of the officer." Or so Shiho had often told them after they had finished, usually while making a point to ignore her.

But many years had passed since then, and she was a Generalleutnant now, in the direct service of the Führer himself. And the man had made his opinion to her progenitor quite clear on matters concerning the so called Shadow of the East. That in Miho's case, his word was first and final.

That was a directive that extended to all of those currently beneath the woman in command as well, which actually included Erika, which was one of the reasons she felt so confidant letting go and doing what she had earned her title for.

As one of her tactical instructors had once told her, "If you can't dazzle them with brilliance, then you must blind them with bullshit." The memory put a small smile on her face as she walked up behind the Polack. She didn't technically have any authority over Erika right now, or any of the SS for that matter, but if she played her cards right, it would be hours before Erika even remembered that.

"-not allowed to have those he…" Miho let herself feel nothing as she cut the little Pole off, grabbing him with one arm, and casually tossing him into the hands of a grizzled old Czech mechanic with a nearly robotic motion. Erika's eyes widened in fury and Miho emptied her mind and took a defiant drag from the stolen cigarette as she let out old memories that washed over the other girl. Then Erika visibly swallowed, trying to fortify herself and she knew the battle was all but won.

She could smell blood again; taste her own blood in her mouth over the potent flavor of ash and nicotine.

And just like that the illusion took hold, they weren't arguing in the middle of a mess hall over a bunch of goddamned cigarettes. They were back in the thick of the jungle, in Henan all those years ago, in the troop compartment of that godforsaken Sturmluther, slipping in blood and guts as it sloshed through the tangled mangroves as fast as its legs could carry it.

Her body ached and her shoulder burned, in synch with the memories, and she gave the other girl her best dead-eyed glare. "Untersturmführer… SSUSF-EI443, you are out of line." With one sentence Erika visibly deflated, looking younger in her eyes than she had in years, and the girl seemed to fall back fully into the mirage herself. Beckoned to the memory of the last time she had said the other girls name like that. "Your unit _will_ report to your assembly area _immediately_ while I locate your commanding officer." She hissed out the command, praying internally that they would fall for the mirage induced misdirection.

The rest of the SS didn't even wait for the Lieutenant's answer. Young enough to still have the discipline of their training or experienced enough to know that they would be better off arguing their case with their own commanding officer. The rest of the troop bolted from the room without even saluting.

Erika didn't run, but stood trembling in place. And a dark little place deep inside Miho couldn't help but smile; it seemed she hadn't forgotten that last little lesson after all. "You are dismissed EI443, go and gather your troop." She finished quietly.

With that she seemed to snap awake from the little nightmare she had been sucked back into, her eyes widened and she immediately snapped to a heel-clicking salute and with a piped, "Jawohl!" she literally ran from the room.

Miho exhaled slowly as the illusion began breaking, consciously relaxing and letting go all of the old emotions and reasserting proper control over her body and its emotional state.

She strolled over to the halls bar slightly giddy at the successful misdirection and laughed nervously, realizing that the entire room was staring at her. "Bartender, how about another round. The SS can pay for this one." The little brunette bartender twitched at her suggestion, seemingly content to stare at her like she was insane. But then the girl seemed to remember the events of the last minute and gave her a rapid intimidated nod, and immediately went about filling beer steins for the entire room.

As the temperature in the room normalized again and people relaxed at the mention of free booze, Miho turned back to Erwin and Goldstein. Both gave her stares remarkably similar to the barkeeps. "Well, they did break our door down. I figured this would be a suitable punishment." She shrugged and Goldstein shrugged back, before flopping into a nearby stool to nurse his wounded pride and bludgeoned head with free alcohol.

Erwin on the other hand, was less indifferent. "Hitler's whiskers Miho, what the hell was that all about?"

Miho blushed awkwardly. "I thought we could let Erika sweat it out for a bit before tracking down my sister." She replied, while ignoring the real question.

Then a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders and she felt herself stiffen in panic. "Oh, I'm impressed. I don't think I've ever seen her so _responsive_ before." An amused and unfortunately familiar voice dripped into her ear.

Miho mechanically removed the touchy boy's hands from her shoulders. "Schrödinger, from where exactly did you come from?" She turned to the Führer's most flamboyant, and obnoxious errand boy.

The boy chuckled gaily at her questions wording, and swung around so he was facing the room in general before replying dramatically. "Going to and fro upon the earth, and walking up and down upon it." His grin widened, to an unnatural degree at his own joke. "You'll have to tell me what exactly you did to get that bothersome girl to act like that." His grin slipped slightly in some parody of seriousness. And he oozed back at her to give a lazy salute.

"But we'll have to save the recollections for another time perhaps. Seeing as I've been ordered to gather the Politick of Berlin to the Grand Auditorium." He gave her a knowing look. "The Führer himself is calling an assembly. So I'm afraid your disciplining of the 556th will have to wait." He sighed quietly to himself, and actually did look slightly disappointed at that, which Miho figured didn't bode well for Erika.

"That message applies to you as well Generalleutnant Rommel." He snapped around and bowed to the still frozen Erwin, then suddenly started smiling brilliantly again, while looking at the ceiling, "Well isn't that new?" he said. Then the lights went out, and when the rooms flashing red klaxon started wailing a second later, he had vanished.

 **3/15/95, Berlin – Block C5, Strategic Air-Command Center A, Inside the Reichstag**

Minna glanced at the radar screen, as alarm klaxons blared for the first time in months, and panicked ensigns at their desks tried to answer dozens of phone calls at once. The room was total chaos as every command station in the city wanted to know what was happening… all at the same time.

She pitied the on-duty switchboard operators.

But she knew exactly what was happening. After all, she had been the one to press the button for the air-raid sirens. Several objects were approaching Berlin, the largest of which with a wingspan of nearly three hundred feet.

Though according to the screen they were actually over the outermost outskirts of the city already, only the cloud cover and its distance from the taller buildings were preventing direct visuals.

On the other hand of course, she had to handle a creepy R&D director from some godforsaken SS division normally stationed in the bowls of the city, leering at the screen over her shoulder; she doubted the switchboard operators had to deal with that.

And as though he could read her mind, the man did an about-face from pestering one of her NCO's and walked over to her, a pleased grin splitting his face. "Are they American, or perhaps Allied aircraft?"

A little chill slid down her back, Minna already knew from her earlier glance that it wasn't anything in the arsenals of any of the familiar political blocks. "Negative, the outlines do not match anything that I've seen or read of. It's possible that they are Experimentals that became lost, but I find that possibility unlikely." The 'don't question me, I've spend more time staring at the damned screens than any reasonable human has any right to,' Went without her saying.

If it was even possible his grin grew even larger and his glasses flicked to their higher focus lenses all by themselves. "Excellent, the Führer will be most pleased with this development." He turned back and stole a phone from an aid, idly playing with the buttons. "Call off your fighters Wilcke; they will be unnecessary for this experiment." He said, waving at her dismissively.

Minna sputtered. "Sir, are you sure…"

The six lenses on his glasses clicked and whirred as his gaze bored into the screen, and he held the phone to his ear with a smile. "Do not fret Kommandant; I have a special surprise in store for our… _visitors_." He gave her an amused look at some unsaid joke.

"Ursula, it has been confirmed." He spoke into the receiver with a crisp tone. "Take your squadron and bring our guests in for a landing." He chucked to himself, "And don't worry, I'll have them turn all the lights on for you. After all, we wouldn't want you to pancake your shiny new toys into the side of a skyscraper, now would we?"

III

 **Couruscant Orbit – Venator-class Star Destroyer** _ **RNS Resolute,**_ **Main Hanger**

Anakin was pouting…

As unbelievable as it would have sounded to the public, and even though the man wasn't visibly sulking at the moment, Obi-Wan could tell.

Anakin was fiddling with his Delta-7, not his own starfighter, but with Obi-Wan's. He had already tinkered with his own fighter long enough for the excuse of its maintenance to run _long_ dry.

Which meant he had switched to Obi-Wan's, and while his justification that his former master didn't maintain it as well as he should of, though technically true, still wasn't appreciated.

Obi-Wan was certainly willing to let him be irritated to a point, however, this was getting childish.

"Anakin, as much as I know you like helping Senator Amidala. Master Unduli was chosen for this mission, and you know she has a much greater stake in this mission than either of us." His opening salvo was one he had spent several minutes mulling over, something that would push exactly the right buttons.

He had intended to be calming but he could feel Anakin sink further into his funk at the statement. The younger man sighed, and turned from the newly eviscerated starfighter engine to look past him.

Obi-Wan felt Ahsoka's presence flicker through the force behind him. Rex and Cody were with her too, presenting a pair of calm, professional auras in contrast to the adolescent Togruta's fluttering light.

"Sir, I thought you would like to be informed that General Unduli's task-force has arrived in the Aldebaran system and will be making a landing soon." Rex supplied, probably directed at Anakin.

Obi-Wan felt Anakin's presence brighten a little as he stood from under the Starfighter. "Will they be broadcasting?"

Kenobi turned in time to see Ahsoka nod, looking pleased at her master's reaction. "Over the military channels, the Chancellor requested it himself. He says he hopes it will be a historic moment." She answered.

"And he sent you to tell us?" Obi-Wan queried, slightly amused at the notion.

"The Chancellor actually ordered Fox to inform you General, but some rioting on the lower levels held him up, so I volunteered to do it his place." Cody added respectfully. "I ran into Rex and Ahsoka on the way over."

Anakin breathed and seemed come back to himself, in their presence. "That's good news." He stood up. "What do you guys think about taking a listen?" He grinned at them, giving Ahsoka a pat on the back, as he led the five of them briskly to the bridge.

III

 **J-type Custom-built Diplomatic Barge "** _ **Conciliation**_ **" – On final approach to Aldebaran 3**

Luminara Unduli stood calmly behind senator Amidala as the younger woman went through the motions of dropping the ship out of Hyperspace near newly dubbed Aldebaran 3.

As Padme moved to finger the comm button on the console, she placed her hand on the younger woman's shoulder to signal her to wait while she performed, what was in the Jedi council's opinion, the most important part of the mission.

Confirming something they had already inferred, but were unsure about.

She stretched herself out in the Force, enough to clearly feel the presence of the crews and troops on the escort cruisers as they dropped out of hyperspace nearby, she reached outwards away from the system.

She tried to feel the other Jedi, to feel the galaxy teeming with life beyond the chaos of the Unknown Regions. A trillion voices echoed through the immensity of space, rolling through the Force all around her. Luminara pressed forward, trying to contact the other Jedi, and though she could feel them clear as day, they did not respond. It was as though her very presence was being muffled.

It was as they had guessed then; the system was in a vortex in the Force.

It was a phenomena that was not completely unheard of, several worlds including the Sith home-world of Korabaan were believed by many to have existed in a similar state. The Force could enter in to the system, but it would not escape it.

Like a whirlpool in the very fabric of the Force itself.

More importantly, it explained why they had been unable to get a feel for anyone from the first contact team.

She squeezed the younger woman's shoulder and Padme nodded dutifully, flicking the comms channel on. The younger woman surmising that whatever Luminara had been doing was Jedi business and that it probably didn't involve her. As the hologram fizzled for a moment she felt a familiar presence spring forth from the planet below, in reaction to her own outreaching, and she couldn't help but feel her spirits lifting.

It seemed that Barriss, her padawan, was still alive.

She allowed herself a small smile at the victory while the hologram sprang to life, to show where the Chancellor stood, surrounded by various officials, senators, and Jedi.

Then the hologram from the _Hopeful_ floated into existence a second later, Chuchi stood flanked by Ozzel who nodded at her and the Chancellor. "It seems our guess as to the nature of at least one issues was correct, and it seems I now owe you some tea master Kenobi." She started the conversation off straight to the point.

Obi-Wan gave a pleased smile from his smaller holo, and several of the non-Jedi in the hologram gave them both odd looks. "So I assume you have a plan of attack." Ion questioned her, impatiently.

Palpatine cut him off with a genial gesture. "In due time Ion; first we must assess the situation. I assume you can feel the children's presence on the planet master Jedi."

Luminara gave him a slightly apologetic look. "I'm afraid my thoughts were occupied, and I have not checked. But I did feel Barriss's presence the moment I entered the system. She is alive and does not seem overly distressed, though I have yet to actually try and contact her directly."

Palpatine nodded and gave her a small smile. "You don't imagine how relieved the people here are," He didn't need to add that her padawan being alive meant that there was a good chance of the other cadets being alive as well. "I think it would be best for everyone's nerves if you attempted that now." He spread his hands to indicate the crowd. "I believe we are at your leave master Jedi."

Luminara nodded, and steadied her breathing as she tried to strengthen her connection to her apprentice. But it wouldn't come. She could feel Barriss's presence; she could even feel where it was on the world nearby, but it was like her apprentice was being muted.

She allowed herself a small frown. "I am having trouble connecting with her Chancellor." She could see the discontent in the holograms, feel it in the bridge of the nearby warships. Only Amidala seemed to retain her unique brand of everlasting hope. "Perhaps it would be best to attempt a landing?" Padme asked her.

She nodded at the woman and flicked the map of the planet on, selecting where she had felt Barriss's presence earlier.

Luminara glanced at the map hologram again and flipped on her commlink. "Pilots, undock your fighters and follow us down." A mechanical sound echoed through the cockpit as the N-1 starfighters released from their charging ports and Padme pressed forward on the control stick. She could feel the troopers in the crew compartment tense as the ship surged towards the planet.

"Ozzel, if your ships would remain on standby for the moment?" Amidala turned, smiling towards the man's fuzzy blue image.

He sniffed and tensed slightly, then turned to regard Palpatine for a moment before replying. "We shall do what we can to assist from here." He nodded back to her politely, gesturing to himself and Chuchi.

The younger woman smiled assuredly at the holograms from the pilot's seat. "Don't worry about it. This isn't anything I haven't done before."

"That's _exactly_ why we're worried." Skywalker gave her knowing look and Luminaria could see the tension on the faces in the room on the other end of the transmission relax slightly at his joke, a few of the senators even lightening enough to begin cracking smiles.

The Chancellor nodded to her as the ship rocked gently, upon hitting the atmosphere. "Hopefully we can keep the level of shenanigans to a minimum this time." He gave her a secretive look. "I don't think a failure at this point would go over well." He spoke into the transmission quietly.

"I think you're all taking this too seriously, they're probably just frightened and confused. Many worlds are during their first contacts." Amidala chided the holograms.

Luminara was about to reply to her statement when it hit her, like a whirlwind of raw strength in the force. An almost physical wall of emotion, hatred and love, lust and revulsion, rage and peace, pain and pleasure, determination and despair, and underlying it all was an all-powerful embodiment of mortality.

It was death congealed unlike anything she had ever felt before, a literal gestalt of trapped souls.

She could feel that power, as it turned its attention onto her in response to her probing. As she fell to her knees on the bridge, the copilot rushing to assist her as Amidala snapped the ships onto autopilot, that gestalt and those behind it knew where she was, where they were.

And they would crush her if they could.

It was unlike anything she had ever experienced, like a billion thoughts all turned on her at once in anticipation, trying to grind her to dust with the force of endless emotions. In the background she could hear Skywalker, Ozzel, and the Senators shouting over the transmission. It was like background static, she couldn't feel the copilot trying to lift her, and she felt nothing as Padme placed a palm on her forehead in concern.

None of it registered past the wave of excitement that was shredding her through the force.

Then something in the cockpit began beeping.

She clawed her way against that abyss, through the storm of passion with nothing but decades of experience and her own sheer willpower. And in an instant everything snapped back into focus again… the concern from Amidala and the copilot, the agitation of the soldiers in the ships belly, a jet of fear that passed into the pilots of the fighter escorts, and a group of minds approaching. Two were calm almost clinical, and the other pair excited, and irrational.

And they were all closing rapidly.

 **3/15/95, Berlin – 6 miles above sea level, Odin 42N "** _ **Biterolf**_ **"**

Ursula Hartmann was ignoring her siblings, and Erica in particular, as the other girl dutifully abused experimental military hardware. Putting her saucer through a series of rolling spins that Ursula was sure would have given her endless nausea had she been copiloting.

Thankfully a single pilot cockpit was one thing the Odin's had over the older and even more experimental Sleipnirs, which meant that she didn't have to deal with the spinning.

However, she had no way to escape the singing…

"Mien das lich, mien das Reich!" Erich chirped alongside his sister in some nonsensical parody of the sacred tongue.

But Ursula ignored them, as she usually did when one of her siblings was in a mood, instead focusing on the tiny radar screen glowing between her knees. The plan, she had decided on was for the four of them to simply fly above the intruders using the cover of the dense clouds, then they would snipe out the escorts and push the larger ship into the deck, where their maneuverable saucers would hopefully have the advantage.

And seeing as the unidentified ships hadn't deviated course in the ten minutes it took them to get to their position above them, she didn't think this was going to be too much of a challenge.

And even if it was, and the unidentified aircraft pulled some trick, Ursula decided it would be all for the better. She suppressed a small grin, that couldn't be dampened by Erich and Erica's terrible warbling, as she slammed the throttle down and the Odin's hybrid engine roared in power. The saucers handled oddly, like something out of some strange dream, as they went slipping and sliding across the vault of the sky, but it could turn on a dime and was very, _very_ fast.

"Let them try something," she thought to herself, pleased at the very notion, "it's been to long since my last dogfight anyway."

Then the feeling tapered out, to be replaced by a sense of anticipation as she realized they had driven themselves almost a kilometer above the altitude of their target.

Then it happened…

The moonless night, as cloudy as she could ever remember suddenly exploded into milky iridescence, as every single light in all of Berlin… in all of Germany turned on at once. And as she flipped her saucer inverted, Ursula could see below them five outlines, illuminated by ten-thousand spotlights and framed by the glow of the city proper. One large broad winged silhouette framed by four smaller T shaped craft.

The singing died and her siblings pulled back on their throttles in unison, and their four saucers slowed to a crawl high above the city, held there by no more than their inherent momentum.

"Alright, we all know the drill, Erich you're with me, Erica with Ursula. We Boom-&-Zoom and we come around to clean up that fat bastard in the middle." Ulrich's voice came clear though her headset as the four saucers gave up the last of the momentum, at the apex of their climb. Ursula smirked at her brother's almost world-weary tone, and nudged her stick slightly as her fighter started its descent, aligning with her sisters aircraft as they started there dive.

She flicked some of the new switches and felt her skin tingling, as the Tesla projectors warmed up to the clacking of the six machine-cannons. "You heard him," Erica's voice chirped eagerly though the radio, "weapons free!"

 **3/15/95, Somewhere beneath Berlin**

Barkhorn glared at his compatriot, dutifully ignoring the low sound of faraway klaxons.

If looks could kill, his friend would be nothing but a pile of sizzling ash.

Erich was still smirking at the door, which he had swung open to reveal a wall of solid bricks. Almost like it hadn't reached his brain that beyond the door was not in fact, whatever secret he had felt the need to drag Gerhard down into the bowels of the earth to show him.

Then the moment passed and Erich's face flipped to shock. "Hey, this wasn't here last time?" He exclaimed, in an almost questioning manner. It made Gerhard wonder if he could, in fact murder his friend, and then hide the body before anyone came along looking for them… That was if anyone would actually come looking for them this deep into the city.

He took a deep, calming breath to banish both thoughts before speaking. "Hartmann, where exactly are we?"

Erich took a moment to reply, still staring in confusion at the door. "Oh, I remember now," he snapped his fingers and spun around, grabbing Gerhard's arm and dragging him back down the damp, dark corridor, "it was the other turn at the stairway."

"And we've gone down how many stairways in the last half hour?" He thought to himself aloud.

If Erich had heard his question he didn't show it, but continued dragging them both through several passageways that Barkhorn could have sworn hadn't been there on their way down.

And that wasn't exactly a good sign.

It was very easy to get lost in any major city, even in the skyscrapers above ground. That was something that had been repeated to him constantly when he had been in very small. Then it was drilled into him every day when he had been initiated into the Volkssturm.

'You don't wander off your patrol." It was such a simple instruction, and a very practical one, considering the sheer size, complexity and substantial age of Berlin itself.

And they had ignored that advice, and wandered down into the forgotten blocks of the great metropolis, and apparently they were now lost.

And along that line of thought, he felt the need to ask. "So Erich… do you actually know where we are, or are we going to die down here like I think we are?" He beckoned to the unfurnished tunnel they were descending thought.

Erich spun around so he was walking down the decrepit hallway backwards, and waved his concern away with a casual gesture. "I know _exactly_ where we are!" He exclaimed. "And besides, have I ever led you wrong?"

"Yes." He replied automatically.

"Come on Gerhard, we'll be fine." Erich whined, as he stopped and swung open the most recent rusty door.

Barkhorn thought that the mummified cadaver in a tattered yellow volksstrum uniform, which flopped on to the smaller boy from behind the steel door when he opened it, seemed to imply differently.

Although he supposed the look on Hartmann's face when he was surprise hugged by a corpse was maybe worth dying for.

While his friend was twitching on the floor, he leaned over to examine the stiff's uniform. "Hey Erich, when you're done flashing back to basic training, you might want to look at this."

The patch on the uniform was faded, and the fabric itself was beginning to rot, but he could still make out the unit number. "The 657th" He looked down at the blonde, who was sitting back up and trying to look like he wasn't just having a bout of shellshock. "Didn't' they get wiped out in forty-seven?"

Erich turned to look beyond the threshold. The door he had opened was at the top of a rusted metal stairway at least five floors tall, and it opened to a long but thin room, cut from the solid stone.

A single light shone at the rooms ceiling, throwing the level several floors below them into a strange gloom.

Erich dusted his black uniform off and leaned past the door-frame, looking down into the abyss where shadows and the mists from the bowels of the earth cast strange shapes on the area below. "I didn't pay any attention in history, you know that…" The blonde muttered quietly. He crouched gingerly onto the grated catwalk, and leaned up to the guardrail. "Do you hear that Gerhard?" Erich asked him while fingering his holstered pistol, a habit Barkhorn knew he only did when he was nervous.

So he ignored all of his reason and sensibility, and he stepped out onto the rusted walkway and listened. The sirens from far above them had stopped a few minutes ago, and the room seemed dead quiet… but then he heard something.

A tiny sound that must have come from far away, an almost musical piping that echoed from the bottom of the room before them.

"Maybe it's an Ahnenerbe lab." He whispered down to Erich.

His friend gave him a dubious look. "Oh lovely, do you think the spooks will be willing to share some snapps?" Erich hissed back in amused sarcasm, he drew his sidearm and began moving gingerly down the catwalk to the spiraling metal staircase.

Barkhorn knew this was a bad idea, that they should close the door and try to navigate their way back up to a more inhabited block.

But he knew Erich would here none of it. That his friend was in the mood to do something stupid and probably suicidal, that if they were really lucky, then the sound would just be a gaggle of Ahnenerbe necromancers that would try to dissect them.

But he wasn't Erich's friend for nothing, and he wouldn't even kid himself that he would leave the other boy alone to face whatever horrors lurked in the blackened depths.

 **J-type Custom-built Diplomatic Barge "** _ **Conciliation**_ **" – somewhere above Aldebaran 3**

Padme had felt perfectly calm when they dropped into the system. And though the subject of the Jedi's byplay had left her feeling confused, but she didn't let it bother her.

When Luminara had pointed out a mountain range as the most probable location for the cadets, she had been only curious.

She didn't feel afraid when Luminara suddenly collapsed in the cockpit. She didn't give in to her panic, not when the woman's eyes rolled back into her head in apparent agony, or when the numerous people on the holo started shouting at her all at once.

After all she was a senator, and an experienced diplomat at that. And really, when dealing with the Jedi, things like that seemed to happen every so often.

But when the woman seemed to come back into herself, Padme felt fear.

Because there was a look of genuine horror on the older woman's face, one that she had never actually seen on a Jedi before.

Then it seemed like every alarm in the cockpit had gone off simultaneously, as a blindingly brilliant light illuminated the clouds outside, and all four of her escorting N-1's seemed to just dissolve in that same instant. They seemed to have been simply ripped to shreds, as the sensor screen started screaming about four objects dropping down from the heavens, upon them like lightning from whatever vengeful gods the natives of this world might have worshiped.

Then Luminara reached out, and her stomach lunged for its escape, as the ships controls slammed forwards, and they were all thrown bodily from their feet and slammed against the back of the cockpit while the ship made a mad dash from the sky.

And they were still being followed. She could see the screen from the corner of her reddening vision, as the four blips on the radar swung around for another pass

Then Luminara leveled out the ship, hard enough to slam them all against the deck, and she could see the massive bulk of one of the peaks loom out from the clouds. Glowing luminous like no mountain she had ever seen.

"Get your crash-webbing on now!" Unduli shouted, seemingly directly into her mind, and suddenly her seat rushed up to meet her as the older woman used the force to push them all into their chairs.

Then they dropped below the cloud layer, and the peak outside the window fully materialized, and in an instant everything suddenly made sense. Not a mountain but a tremendous monolithic building, swathed in greenery and hundreds of now brilliant lights.

Now that she could see it clearly she felt like a fool. In orbit, when Luminara had pointed to the storm smothered continent, she had noticed the oddness of many of the shapes on the screen, but had ignored it as a trick of the mist in her ships sensors.

She had expected to find some quaint village, nestled in the foothills of a verdant mountain range.

But up close, all she could see was a series of massive concrete buildings, of a design she had never seen before. It was simultaneously brutal, gothic and imperialistic, built like a mountain from a fever dream, with unashamed concrete surfaces fashioned into harsh geometric shapes that vines clung to.

And that uncompromising city was all she could see.

That they had dropped down into a city build like a mountain range, two miles of air still below them and with many of the skyscrapers extending up into the cloudy sky above them. She could only guess their weight, duly impressed at the monumental determination and ingenuity that had to have been necessary to raise such monolithic bulks into the sky.

But despite her wonder, they were still being pursued. Those four circular shapes that had shredded her escort had come back around on the radar, tailing them avidly. But now they were shooting at them.

Crackling beads of lightning flew past the cockpit windows from their pursuers firing their alien weapons, as the Jedi drove their ship to dive beneath one of the many immense suspensions bridges that spanned the gaps between buildings, each large enough to be clustered with their own orchards and parks, held aloft more than a mile above the ground. But the saucers still pursued them, matching the clumsy wallowing of her larger ship easily.

She could feel sweat on her brow. As the chill of panic setting in as she slammed the comms unit back on open frequency, hoping against odds that they would be willing to talk. "This is Padme Amidala, of the Galactic Republic! Please cease fire! This vessel is on a diplomatic missi-" She was cut off by a deafening bang, which rattled the ship hard enough that the mesh of her seats crash-webbing dug painfully into her shoulders

The hologram of the ship started flashing, and she could see a damage marker on their underside. She opened her mouth to warn Luminara, but the other women slammed the ship into a roll as the air beyond them filled with little black clouds, and their ship slid vertically into a cavernous hanger cutting through of one of the skyscrapers.

It was a heart-stopping experience, as they dodged huge airships and massive sections of crowded scaffolding. She could see smaller aircraft taxiing out by the dozens across the deck below them and the tiny figures of hundreds of people running in all directions as the Jedi spun her ship through a complete barrel roll to dodge a huge section of catwalk.

Then they hit the walkway immediately behind the one she had been attempting to dodge, dead center.

The sight would have been laughable, if she hadn't been so horrified. The three young figures, dressed in what she assumed were maintenance uniforms, that she could see on the scaffolding in that instant had such comically surprised looks on their faces, as if her ship had simply materialized from thin air.

Luminara had screamed for them to brace, and she didn't know if it was at her or the figures on the catwalk.

Then every window on the bridge shattered, and she found herself ducking shards of jagged glass, as the thin metal scaffolding dragged across the front of the ship to shatter the viewport with an earsplitting screech.

And a terrifying instant later, her battered cruiser shot free of the hanger. She gambled a glance at the ships gauges, and what she saw did not fill her with hope.

Whatever had struck them from below had impacted just behind the handmaidens' chamber; she could see that the hit must to have cut one of the power feeds, as the port-side engines were seconds from failing.

The Jedi, either sensing her worry or having glanced at the screen herself, took the moment to level the battered ship back out. Then Luminara switched her comms on. "Is everyone alright in the hold?" The Jedi asked, and she felt a moment of shame for not thinking to do the same.

"A little bruised, but we'll make it." Was the crisp reply from the captain of the squad of senate troopers, who had camped out in the ships conference room. "What's the deal General?"

Padme glanced out the shattered window then back as Luminara started speaking. "That hit seems to have fried our engines. I'm going to try and glide us down as gentle as I can but…"

"At the rate this is going we can expect hostiles." The trooper guessed frankly.

The copilot snorted at that. "I'd say that's a strong possibility captain." The young man answered, and then he scanned back at the radar screen. "At least those bogies from earlier seem gone."

Padme sighed, and flicked the comms channel back to the original frequency, and then she balked at the stream of shouting that poured from the speakers.

She raised her hand to stem the tide of questions, and opened her mouth to speak, but the Chancellor cut her off. "If everyone is alright, I've already dispatched reinforcements; just transmit your location when you…' _land'_." He smirked cleverly. "I'll have Ozzel bring the ships to your position when they arrive." He gestured to Luminara. "Try to keep everyone alive in the meantime, would you master Jedi?"

Luminara nodded absently, focused on finding them someplace to land. "You seem awfully prepared for this." Padme commented, mildly trying to sort out whether to feel annoyed or relieved.

Palpatine gave her an amused look. "In my defense, this does happen to you quite often." He waved to Anakin's hologram. "I believe Skywalker would agree with me."

And speaking of her husband, Anakin was looking very anxious. "Hey, just try not to get into too much trouble before we get there alright?"

"I very much hope that this will not escalate that far-" Obi-Wan was cut off as the ships engines chose that moment to shut down.

"Alright, I'm going to try to glide us down into one of the buildings." Luminara interrupted, and then she started and turned back to the holograms with an almost haunted look. "Kenobi, Skywalker I want you two to inform the council that there is something deeply wrong going on with this planet."

The Jedi present gave Luminara an uncertain look, but Obi-Wan nodded. "I will pass that on; hopefully you can give us some more details when after you've been secured."

And at that Padme found herself pulled away from the hologram and the Jedi's discussion, to marvel again at the clever illusion that many of the buildings created.

The building Unduli was gliding them towards was a steep cone of concrete, like many of the others in the city, and from above it would look completely solid. Nothing more than a peak wreathed in foliage. But from the side the illusion was now made obvious. The tower was clearly divided into many even levels, a solid overhang several stories tall would be punctuated by a section cut deep enough onto the structure to shelter elaborate gardens and what looked like small towns, if her eyes did not deceive her, nestled away safely between the folds of the gigantic structure. And the entire building seemed to be patterned in this manner.

And there were people in the little towns watching them, she could see them now that they had closed the distance and slowed down, the battered ship unable to continue its glide for much longer.

She had just enough time to double-check her crash-webbing before the ship slipped in between the buildings levels and came down for a bone jarring landing.

After the ship slid to a stop, she couldn't help but think that it wasn't the worst landing she had ever had.

Luminara didn't give her much time to reminisce, the Mirialan Jedi unstrapped herself immediately and shepherded them all down into the conference room, where the six-man squad of senate troopers waited anxiously.

Strange voices could be heard from outside the ship as Unduli addressed the men. "Captain is your squad ready." asked curtly, drawing her lightsaber in response to the increase in sounds coming from outside.

The purple armored trooper said nothing, but nodded and he and the other troopers flicked the safeties off on their force-pikes.

Padme drew her own blaster absently, as the Jedi briskly motioned for them to follow her back up to the cockpit. "So do we have a plan?" She queried.

The green-skinned Mirialan nodded. "I think we'll have the best chance of escape if we use the cockpit windows rather than the boarding ramp." She motioned to the shattered glass. "They might not expect it if we go this way."

Padme nodded and crawled out the window after her, mindful of the windows jagged edges. "And then what?" She whispered quietly.

The woman's lips thinned in displeasure. "We'll think about that if we get that far." She spoke as she stood, her lightsaber snapping on with a hiss and a flash of brilliant emerald light.

And when she stood up next to her Padme understood why.

They seemed to have crashed into some sort of open-air restaurant. Framed by the eerie illumination from outside, and by several caged lights embedded in the concrete of the ceiling, was a mess of flipped tables and several hundred figures in a variety of uniforms.

And every single one of them was pointing some sort of small-arm at them.

'This happens every single time…" Padme thought to herself, while the squad of senate troopers moved cautiously up to join them on the top of the ship, followed closely by her copilot. 'Maybe I am cursed.'

Two of the figures stood out in the crowd below them, a darkly dressed older man and a younger man in a crisp yellow uniform, who seemed to be having an argument of some kind. The younger of the two seemingly intent on trying to stop the older man, who might have been his superior if the metals on the old man's uniform meant anything, from approaching them.

"Plan?" She hissed to Luminara quietly.

The Jedi grimaced and deactivated her lightsaber, making the troopers behind her startle, and turned back to her. "We're going to surrender to them."

The captain started at that. "Sir you can't be serious!" He whispered heatedly, gesturing his stave at the crowd. "Weren't we supposed to hold out until reinforcements arrived?"

Unduli gave them a strange look. "There are more options available to us than just fighting captain." She walked to the edge of the ship's hull. "And besides, we might be able to learn more this way."

"Hände hoch!" The older man called up to them calmly, waving his hand in a casual motion, and every gun in the crowd clicked cocked simultaneously. Padme didn't know whether to be more surprised that they were surrendering or that they were surrendering to a crowed armed with what appeared to be slugthrowers.

The troops behind her seemed to be just as shocked as she was, and growled traitorously down at the assembly. "Come on, half of em don't even look like they even got hair on their chests, we could totally take them." One of the men behind her commented.

Luminara actually rolled her eyes at that. "Lock it down private." She tossed her now deactivated lightsaber to the younger of the two men, who squawked in surprise and fumbled with his catch. She waved for the rest of them to toss down the weapons, and Padme tossed her blaster down to the boy.

The troopers around her snorted as the blond dropped her pistol and it clattered on the concrete. They tossed their pikes down on top of him while he scrambled, cursing loudly, and several people in the crowed snorted audibly in response.

Luminara looked back to all of them, raising her hand. "Alright, on three."

"One"

"Two"

"Drei." Her heart jumped into her throat as Padme felt the familiar feeling of weightlessness, and they were lifted into the air, and set down before the older man.

His mustache bristled as he turned and began speaking rapidly in an annoyed tone, to a very tall and very thin, elderly woman who had stepped out from behind a large steel doorway. While Luminara simply stared at the woman in horror, either at the cartoonish skull painted over the brow of her black habit, or at the woman's apparent command of the force, Padme did not know.

The grey-haired woman either didn't notice the Jedi's apparent shock, or simply didn't care. Walking up to the older man at a completely relaxed pace, unconcerned when the people in the crowd scrambled out of her way.

She gave him a smirk, and then directed an almost patronizing glance to herself and Luminara. Not even seeming to see the growling troopers, and her cowering copilot who stood behind them.

What followed was a somewhat heated conversation in their guttural native language. Padme found the dialog utterly incomprehensible, and she found herself wishing she had brought along C3P0, as no one else in their party seemed to understand the dialog any better than her. And if any of the natives, many of which seemed to be settling casually back into their meals despite the massive ship that had slewed itself into restaurant, understood Galactic Basic they didn't feel the need to translate.

And while she found the sudden lack of firearms pointing in her direction to be slightly reassuring, the sheer incomprehensibility of the native tongue left her with a helpless feeling. She didn't know if they were discussing taking them to their leader, or if they were deciding whether or not to execute them on the spot.

But finally, after several minutes of argument, the pair seemed to reach an agreement. With the older man stroking his mustache in a pleased manner, before sharply gesturing to his younger assistant, who had finished handing their weapons off to a trio of children in similarly crisp tan uniforms, before presumably telling the boy to get them an escort.

The younger man straightened his hat, and ran off, returning not five minutes later with a dozen gas-masked soldiers in tough looking black uniforms.

The elderly woman gave then a genial look, and wordlessly gestured at them to follow her, as she walked back towards the steel door.

Padme gave Luminara a glance, trying to determine the woman's plan, but her tattooed face remained completely passive in that infuriating Jedi way as they turned to follow, with the black uniformed soldiers falling crisply in line on either side of their group, apparently escorting them deeper into the building.

And so she did as she always did in these kinds of situations, she took a deep breath and braced herself for whatever would come next.

 **3/15/95, Berlin – Block O25, Mess Hall B1, beneath the Reichstag**

Miho glanced at the place Schrödinger had been standing only a moment before, trying to untangle her thoughts. The day had gone on long enough already, and her emotions still wanted to tie themselves in knots.

The sirens might have stopped already, and the flashing red klaxons had flicked off only a few seconds later, but there had already been an explosion of excitement in the room. Everyone had been on edge already; over two months of peace would do that, and every time there was a drill or someone pulled a fire alarm the whole city seemed to lose its collective mind.

Which made the alarm's timing pretty suspect when she gave it some thought.

She knew it wasn't impossible for Schrödinger to do something like that with the lights, and that he certainly enjoyed messing with people enough. Plus he was probably as bored and on edge as everyone else at the unexpected peace. So the idea that he would pull a prank certainly wasn't beyond possibility.

But she also knew that he wouldn't make up a fake summons either, while the boy had little respect for anyone, he did follow the Führer's orders, at least most of the time.

Which meant that she was going to have to drag Rommel all the way to the Volkshalle, a task that was always easier said than done, just to be sure that this wasn't the flamboyant youth's way of blowing off steam.

And her mind put special emphasis on the word 'Drag' because Erwin absolutely despised politics. The other woman could spend literally all of her time in the archives reading up on history, and was always at ease with the lower ranks, but any attempt to get her to interact with the other officers was like pulling teeth.

Not like Miho liked politics any better, but she made a point to at least _try_ to interact with some of the people she was supposed to be working with.

Erwin, on the other hand, had to be forced to care.

She allowed herself a sigh, and swiped a freshly filled stein from the counter before turning to Rommel. "Alright, time to go."

Erwin frowned at her petulantly. "He wouldn't even notice I was gone." She said, probably referring to the Führer.

But Miho was having none of it today. "Erwin, we are not having this conversation again." She grabbed her companion by the sleeve of her greatcoat, and made to pull her from the hall. "You can't just keep ignoring direct orders from the Führer. And besides, if he is ordering _everyone_ to assembly hall this has got to be something big." She stressed the word 'everyone', hoping her friend would see reason. "There will probably be a record of who showed up."

"Or Schrödinger is having one at our expense, which do you think is more likely?" The other girl shot back, glaring at the bartender, who had emerged from beneath the bar to try and listen in on their conversation.

Miho shot the girl an apologetic look. "Sorry, but I think this one is need to know only."

The brunette shrugged and went back to filling her steins, while several of the nearby off duty individuals leaned away from them and went back to their own conversations.

Erwin just groaned at Miho, as she was pulled away from the bar and she guided her down the hall in the direction Miho knew would lead to one of the towers train stations. "I still don't like it, and I don't like them." She lit up another cigarette. "The lot of them are a bunch of stuffy old fu-"

"Rommel, it's good to see you." A crisply bearded man in a white Swedish uniform cut her off, in in passable German, falling into step next to them. "I don't think I've seen you since you were deployed with my boys in Mezen."

Erwin blinked in recognition and nodded respectfully back at the man. "General Welk."

The General gave them both a firm handshake. "Carolus Welk, I met your friend here during the Barent campaign about three years ago." He gave her a closer look, stroking his beard thoughtfully as they walked past an unmanned checkpoint. "I think I recognize you… one of Shiho's aren't you?"

Miho just nodded back politely, and replied automatically. "WMGL-MN44b." She flushed red, realizing the Swedish general was unlikely to recognize the designation code.

But he merely rolled his eyes, good naturedly. "Don't give me that crap kid, I can never remember any of it."

An older woman in a Finnish air command uniform fell into step with them, snorting at his response. "Trust me kid, he wouldn't even remember his own if it wasn't tattooed on his ass." She grinned wolfishly down at Miho. "And believe me it's there, I've checked."

"Give me a break Laura." Welk waved back at the woman.

"It's Miho…" She watched their reactions, as the name hit them.

They both gave Erwin an impressed look. "Well, aren't you rubbing shoulders in high places." Welk ruffled her hat and Erwin frowned, shooting him an annoyed look.

"It's not my fault; everyone else around here is either crazy or an asshole." The blonde shot back.

Laura shrugged. "The SS and the Ahnenerbe Headquarters are in Berlin, did you really expect anything else?"

Miho for her part just followed the conversation while sipping slowly from the stein, just glad that the attention had not immediately gone to her.

"So… would either of you happen to know what all of this is about." The older man asked as they arrived in the tram station along with about fifty other officers and politicians, several of whom leaned in subtly at his question.

Miho smiled a little inside, at the almost childish curiosity pouring off several of the people nearby. "I wouldn't know sir; Schrödinger didn't have time to say much of anything, just told us that Max had ordered an assembly, though he did look up oddly before the air raid klaxons went off." She shrugged and sat down on the officer cars bench, while Erwin flopped herself into a nearby seat, looking visibly displeased as the over-sized train jerked to motion. Even glaring at a Volksstrum attendant offering everyone coffee.

Welk nodded back in understanding, plucking a cup of coffee from an attendant while Miho sipped the cheap beer from her stolen stein. "Didn't say much to me either, just dropped by to tell me I was invited." The bearded man leaned over conspiratorially, mirroring a dozen other conversations occurring in the compartment. "But I've heard we're going back to war." He whispered and every other conversation in the car died instantly.

He gave her a knowing grin. "I mean come on, all of this secrecy," he gestured to an Abwehr officer Miho didn't recognize. "Then there's the fact that all production orders have been tripled, everywhere it seems." Several others in the compartment nodded, while the Swede reveled in his new audience.

"What else could it possibly be?" He asked, looking directly at her with a genial smile, like he was expecting she would have an answer.

Miho kept her face straight at the man's good-natured prodding, carefully polishing downing the rest of the beer in her stein before replying, glad for the effects of the alcohol on her normally jittery nerves as everyone's gaze fell on her. "Well Max hasn't told me anything, if that's what you mean, but you're suspicion does seem pretty reasonable now that I think about it." Light flooded the compartment as they shot out from inside the building they were in onto one of the cities many massive suspension bridges.

But before she could continue, Erwin cut in. "Hey guys, is that building burning?" Rommel, who had been making a point to not be paying attention to their conversation until now, turned back to her. Gesturing to the glass, as every eye in the car locked on her window.

And a building was indeed burning, though she didn't know which building it was at a glance. And after she got over the oddness of seeing all of Berlin's lights on at night through the window Miho could see it quite clearly. The thickening plume of black smoke that was emanating from the space between the levels on a nearby skyscraper, and when she looked closer she could see another, smaller cloud of smoke pouring from an inset hanger in another further away skyscraper.

And then, an instant later they passed fully from the bridge, and plunged back into the relative darkness of another skyscraper. But by then the tension in the car had exploded.

"I think that was probably what the alarm was about earlier." Erwin observed dryly.

Laura, straightened her air force uniform, and gestured to Miho and Welk. "That would have had to have been an aircraft. No bomb could have hit at that angle, and a missile would have struck one of the buildings on the city's outskirts before it would have penetrated this far." The white haired woman nodded to herself.

But something was bothering Miho, about what Carolus had said earlier, it niggled in her mind so she didn't even notice Erwin getting drawn into an argument with a pair of Polish engineering directors about velocities and missile guidance systems.

Then suddenly everything hit her, all at once, and she was leaping up to shake Welk and trying to rip open her jacket at the same time. "Secrets!" She settled for shaking his shoulder with one hand and digging the letter from her jacket with the other. "That's it!" She ripped the tattered letter from her pocket. "Katyusha sent me a letter talking about how she got promoted for getting shot, and about how that made us even now."

Everyone in the compartment was looking even more closely at her as she folded out the letter, running her fingers over the blackened out lines of text. "I figured that it was just the Russians being, well… Russians. But they didn't censor the date… Here January the twenty-eighth, twenty-nine ninety-five. She says that she was writing this the day she woke up, and the ceasefire started on the twenty-seventh. But three days earlier she had sent me a complaining about how she was mad about being sent out to look for a meteor."

The temperature dropped as several people in the compartment inhaled simultaneously, obviously reaching her conclusion. "And everyone has heard by now that something strange fell in Russia, and that an unspecified Russian officer got a medal for killing it."

"Then there was whatever happened in Switzerland." Welk was nodding along with her now, stroking his beard. "I've heard that thousands of troops saw, what was described as a building, fall from the sky, and even that there was a major battle of some sort." He downed the rest of his coffee in a quick gulp, grinning at her wildly. "And there were rumors about a bunch of completely blacked out subway trains were sent to Berlin from Switzerland about a month ago."

Erwin spoke up. "So the Reds started a war with aliens?" She said a little doubtfully.

The bearded Fin shrugged. "Until I hear someone come up with something better…"

"I suppose we'll find out soon enough." Miho said feeling slightly embarrassed by her own outburst as the beer started to catch up to her, and the tram pulled into the Volkshalle's central station.

The first thing she noticed upon exiting the tram was that the station was absolutely crawling with security. Hundreds of gasmask wearing SS from the Elite Security Division idled all across the terminal.

"Oh, that's just what I wanted to see today, even more _Blackshirts_." Her friend practically spat.

Miho slipped her hand onto Erwin's shoulder. "Erwin, at least try to remain civil, at least until the meeting is over."

Erwin growled in annoyance, but slipped her hands into her pockets and nodded in confirmation before wandering off to find her own siblings, who would be waiting for her on the lower levels.

That left her with the uncomfortable task of going up to the upper levels and finding her own siblings, without the company of her great coat wearing friend.

The SS trooper didn't even ask to check her ID at the entrance to the Grand Auditorium, but simply glanced at her face and saluted. Something that Miho actually found a little depressing, it was just another reminder of everything she wanted to forget.

That she had been born different.

That she was so different from her siblings, that she could be identified at a mere glance.

It was a dark thought, one that made her remember that Shiho was guaranteed to be in the building as well. And she felt herself slouching even further.

She had been avoiding the issue for the better part of her life, and she had no intention of letting it blow over now, during such an obviously crucial moment.

But thankfully, her progenitor was nowhere to be seen among the stream of people passing up the stairways, and everyone else around her seemed too distracted with the impending meeting to pay her any mind.

And in retrospect, it was a good thing everyone was so distracted, as it meant that they didn't see when she was pulled behind one of the alcoves by a black garbed arm.

Miho would have screamed, sent the buildings honor guard into a panic, but the moment the hand had clasped hers she felt an affectionate sensation pour at her, like having a bucked of warm water dumped on you on a cold day.

She didn't need to look to know she was back in one of the only places she was ever really felt safe.

Maho tilted her head up anyway, with a finger on her chin so she could plant a kiss on her forehead without knocking Miho's hat off.

Her sister gave her a calm little smile. "I haven't seen you in two months Miho."

She felt herself blush in spite of herself, wiggling in her siblings arms. "But this city is so big, and you would not believe the trouble Erwin has been getting into." She gave up finding excuses almost immediately, choosing instead to give into the impulse to bury her face into the taller girl's neck. "I was actually about to come get you though, Erika kicked my door in."

Maho let out a small snort. "Somehow, I don't find that hard to believe." She replied dryly, running a hand through Miho's hair affectionately.. "You'll have to forgive her. Everyone in my command group going completely stir-crazy, and I'm sure yours is no exception."

Then the taller girl shrugged. "Without the war on, no one knows what they should be doing anymore."

"Could you two love birds hurry it up," echoed a voice almost identical to Maho's but with a slightly more masculine tone, "It's starting soon."

Miho let her sister guide her gently behind the alcove. Fifteen other, identical faces greeted her, and her stomach clenched and her shoulder throbbed, at the potent realization of just how few of them had survived the last fifteen years.

When they had been first born; there had been forty of them, she had twenty brothers and nineteen sisters.

But the years of service in the endless war had slashed their number by more than half, and now she had nine sisters and five brothers, one of whom was giving her a mildly amused grin.

Moho wiggled his eyes at Maho. "You can make kissy faces at her after the assembly Maho." He waved in the direction of the stairway. "Unlike Bubi, we're actually expected to be present when our _glorious leader_ gives a speech." His voice was fairly flat, but Miho could still tell that there was more than a hint of sarcasm in it, which made sense considering that Moho was actually in command of a section of Berlin's security division.

So they made the short jaunt up to their balcony, more than halfway up the Grand Auditorium, and again she couldn't help think that the room certainly deserved the name.

Over twenty stories of huge balconies ringed the central dais, room enough for the thousands of high tanking officers that ran the Reich to be addressed at once.

The room itself was also lavishly decorated, with marble and granite carved into symbols of power and authority decorating every surface all under a central floodlight that was encased behind a water filled dome.

The light itself could change color, depending on the mood that needed to be set. Today it was a deep blue, with droplets falling into the water at the bottom of the glass case causing a relaxing rippling effect in the lights.

And at the center of it all, Maxwell stood on the raised dais, surrounded by eight smoldering braziers aligned in the shape of a Hakenkreuz . The plumes of incensed smoke they threw up were thick enough, that when combined with the rippling effect of the blued lights, the room almost felt as though it was submerged.

Normally an assembly of this nature was something that was steeped deeply in ritual, but today the Führer seemed to have no patience for such frivolity.

The stout man marched up onto the dais, adjusted his white uniform and keyed his microphone. "Greetings, faithful servants of the Reich." The low murmur of the crowed died instantly; as the blonde's forever amused voice echoed though the room. "I feel friends, that today I should begin by thanking you all for holding together for such strenuous times."

His hands swept wide, as he gestured to the entire room. "I know how frustrated you all must be, and how confused and directionless these last few months have been for those beneath you on the chain of command."

He grinned broadly, the gleam in his golden eyes visible even from where Miho was. "I know that the Gestapo has certainly been gnawing my ears off with incident reports." Max chuckled to himself. "And I am well aware that there has been much speculation about the nature of the events over these last few months."

As he spoke, a cloaked figure strode purposefully up to the podium and stood behind him, as he continued. "But fret not my friends, for today the nature of ALL secrets will be revealed." The short blonde grinned viciously, and she felt a shiver run thorough the room.

"Our guest today has the answers you all your questions, and more." And at that the figure doffed his white robes in a single smooth motion, and everyone in the room gasped, either in shock, outrage or terror.

Because behind Max stood one of the most admired and despised men in all of German history.

"Greetings children!" The calm voice of Albert Einstein thundered across the room, his psychic aftershocks literally shaking the walls, and pinning everyone in the entire auditorium in their place.

"I must thank your good Führer, Mr. Maxwell, for having me here today." He inhaled deeply, and Miho had to work to keep her knees from hitting each other, realizing that the only thing keeping her standing was the man's sheer power. "It's good to be back in Berlin." He gave them all a wiry smile. "What's it been Max, a thousand years?"

The Führer merely rolled his eyes, as Einstein released the room from his psychic grip. "And you people have the gall to say I'm over dramatic." He complained, waving the elder man up to the Dais's podium, cutting all manner of protest off with nothing more than a sharp look and a single raised hand. "Yes, fret not, our _good friend_ Albert is here to explain everything from the beginning." He spoke in a tone that left no room for argument.

The sheer insanity of hearing Maxwell refer to Albert Einstein, a man who had deserted the Reich to aid the Americans before the war had even begun and who had been aiding them ever since, as a friend was enough to keep her mind paralyzed in place even after the genius's power had full receded.

It left Miho wondering if the reason for the rooms spinning was due to the alcohol she had consumed earlier, or if the madness had simply infected reality itself.

But if Einstein noticed the wild mix of emotions echoing through the room, he hardly seemed to care. "I suppose that's where I should start my explanation shouldn't I, at the beginning." He cupped his chin in thought for a moment, before smiling. "Many years ago I had a dream."

His smile widened. "I had a dream my friends." His hands flashed out, gesturing to the whole of the room as Maxwell had only minutes earlier. "And I dreamed of a heavens filled with civilizations, of alien worlds and technology that was almost beyond comprehension. I saw battles and wars on a scale that could never have been comprehended at the time."

"And I dreamed of codes children," he wiggled his finger at them, "of a variety of alien languages, which I could understand in this dream." The braziers' vomited a pall of smoke as the light in the ceiling turned a deep red. "But when I awoke I was always doubtful, though I still remembered all of it unlike any dream I had ever had before, and though when I went to sleep the next night I still dreamed of those places again, and in greater detail."

His hands waved, casting patterns through the smoke, and in that instant Miho thought he looked like some mage from a time long since passed, which she supposed he was. "And I kept dreaming, and then several days later I had the fortune to read in a newspaper that my now good friend Tesla had recorded transmissions from the heavens!" He snorted. "Nikola had believed them to be from mars, but when I read the transmissions I was struck dumb. I found that I could translate the signals, and that they were part of a news broadcast in an alien language, one I had dreamed about and could somehow translate."

"It was talking about a great battle that had left an entire world in ruins, and in that moment children, I felt my blood run cold as ice. I couldn't, I wouldn't let that be us." A look of old determination passed across the man's wrinkled brow. "I knew that I would do anything to prevent that from happening here, and so I did. I contacted Tesla, showed him my translations, I convinced him to keep it secret. And then we created the Conclave," He gestured to the room again, "an order which many of those present are a part of."

"We went out and gathered the best and brightest from all corners of the world, and there in the shadows we swore them all to secrecy. The knowledge we had uncovered on the true nature of the heavens shocked and terrified many, but soon a plan was concocted. We infiltrated governments across the planet, steering it cautiously towards the war that has tempered our world for the past thousand years."

The wild-haired old man grinned, good naturedly. "Yes, little ones, it was I who was behind the war. I saw the direction our world was headed, and with the help of the other members of the Conclave, we took hold of the wheel and began steering in another direction."

"Of course there were speed bumps and roadblocks, some of which had to be removed by force." His power passed over the room again, but this time there was an almost fatherly feeling to it, benevolence. "But I cannot tell you how proud I am of all of you…"

Miho felt her knees buckle, sheer confusion making her dizzy, but Einstein held her and a thousand others up without any apparent strain.

His hands swept the room. "For a wise man once told me, that it is easier to build strong children than repair broken men." He chuckled. "And believe me I would know, I invented the ectogenesis pods for exactly that reason." His eyebrows wiggled and he pulled a pipe from his coat. "And to that end I have guided the people of this world."

He chuckled as he lit his pipe. "So in a way, I am not here to tell you a message of armistice, as the nations of this good Earth have never really been at war."

"I am here to tell you that I have done all that was in my power to do. Our cities now scrape the skies and delve the depths, the chains rattle and forges roar as tanks and planes pour from the factories! I have made you strong my children, forged mighty in the heat of a THOUSAND YEARS OF WAR!" His voice boomed like a peal of thunder, and Miho realized she was trembling against Maho. That she had fallen back into her sister in shock.

"And now it is that familiar old war you all desire!" He roared up at the masses. "It is war you shall have!"

The crowd roared back to him, the desire to fulfill their purpose outweighing all else. "Now draws the hour when your strength will be tested. This _Galactic Republic_ ," he spat the name, "has been weakened by millennium peace, but they outnumber the stars themselves and they will bring the might of the very heavens down upon us!"

"The battle for the very fate of our Earth draws near! So the time has come for all nations to put aside our differences and unite under the banner of war!"

As he finished Miho felt something, a tingling in her stomach that she recognized, to her own terror, was anticipation. "So that is our mission…" Max said nonchalantly, "we must withstand Armageddon so that we can begin Götterdämmerung."

* * *

Holy shit did this take a long time to write…

On the plus side, it is more than twice as long as the first two, almost four times as many words. Though I very much doubt later chapters will be this lengthy, because super long chapters like this just take too long to pound out and edit. I just couldn't find a good place to stop with this one.

And as for the whole "psycher" thing. Well most stories I've read that do crossovers with Star Wars usually ignore the force and its possibilities all together, something I find both unrealistic and uninteresting. There is just so much more you can play around with.

I mean just imagine a universe where groups like the Ahnenerbe actually figured out stuff that actually worked, IE the Force, a world where they had an impact on the war.

But I digress, if you liked the story, have any ideas you'd like to share, or have comments or criticism you, feel free to leave a review. Or don't, I really don't mind.

 **Next Time on Hearts of Iron** : It's all about cadets!


	4. Chapter 4

Have no fear, chapter four is here!

 **Hearts of Iron: Chapter I** **V** **–** **Asparagus is unstable, and Lucchini makes things worse** **…**

* * *

 **2/25/95, Switzerland – Third Allied Defensive Line, Fortification 144**

Asparagus stared at the redheaded suck-up; Pekoe stared back, looking like she was trying desperately to figure out what she could respond with.

But she was having none of that today. "Explain this to me again Orange, why does Darjeeling want us to help the Italians?" She huffed at the shorter girl.

Pekoe, for her part at least had the self-preservation skills to look confused. "I'm not actually sure of that myself." The other girl answered nervously, eyes continually flitting in distraction to the monolithic structure that had fallen from the sky only a short time ago.

"Though I suppose we are not _technically_ at war with them right now…" The redhead trailed off, and Asparagus had had enough of her excuses.

"Tojo, get me a line to commander Darjeeling!" She snapped at one of the Japanese soldiers idling near a nearby bunker door. The boy scowled at her, but he snapped to attention anyway and ran down into the trenches leading deeper into their own lines.

The sky buzzed as an entire flight of biplanes passed overhead, clearly heading in the direction of the landing zone.

And speaking of the landing zone, the fucking Macaroni in a German monoplane was still strafing it, despite the scattered blue tracers that intermittently pegged impotently at the sky.

It didn't matter; she wasn't risking her battalion over something like this without direct orders.

The Jap came back in a huff, wearing a backpack radio that she immediately swiped from him. "Commander Darjeeling?"

"Asparagus my dear, you rang?" The other woman's reserved voice crackled out of the radio, sounding for all the world like she had just called her up for a pleasurable conversation, and not because the tea slurping Brit had ordered her to do something unthinkable.

"Sir, I will not comply with these orders!" Asparagus shouted, and immediately calmed herself down slightly, realizing she had been shouting into the receiver. "You can't seriously be asking us to aid the enemy?"

The older woman replied more quietly, with an almost amused tone. "Dear, I am afraid I must insist. I need your unit's armor to accompany the infantry battalions that are being deployed to investigate that object."

And that was the crux of the issue wasn't it. That damned rocket ship that had parked itself in the center of the trenches, and if her latest report were to be believed, had started deploying infantry.

It wasn't just something they could easily ignore.

She snarled at the other people assembled in pure frustration. "Get the tanks started, we're moving out ASAP!" She jabbed her gloved hand at the various tank crews and technicians milling about. She hissed at no one in particular. "We will move out on your orders commander…" she paused, "I want it noted that I thought this was a bad idea."

She left the part about it all going horribly wrong unsaid, it was already implied.

"Consider your concerns noted Asparagus." Darjeeling replied, sounding more amused than worried.

The engines of fifty-five Renault ft-19s rattled to life, their tracks squelched into the muddy ground as they started moving forward. She shot Pekoe an expectant look.

The shorter girl shrugged helplessly. "I'm to lead our infantry units apparently."

She snorted. Then the other girl was worthless, after all it was armor that would always win them the day.

The cloudy blackness of the sky burst with light as a thundering boom echoed across the landscape. A glance up revealed the painfully brilliant ember of a star shell screaming into the foggy sky.

She ran into her tank, sliding onto the commander's position, and flipped her short-range radio on. "All armor move forward, we'll storm their trenches and grind them into dust!"

She felt a vicious grin spread across her lips at the chorus of "affirmatives" and "yes sirs" that echoed back as their column started clattering into the trench-lands.

Because while Asparagus might not have agreed with the orders and she certainly despised the people giving them, that didn't mean she wasn't going to let herself enjoy the moment.

And if a few of the pasta slurping micks got caught in the crossfire… well those things happened in the chaos of battle, didn't they?

 **Hardcell-class Interstellar Transport, "** _ **Salutation**_ **" – Somewhere on Aldebaran 4**

Junior Major, Sila Wilik rushed down the ships hallways in a brisk march. Having already relayed an abridged version of Riker's orders over her helmet's comm unit, she decided that they needed troops on the ground as soon as possible.

Which meant getting down to the boarding ramps as fast as possible and that she was going to drag everyone she met along the way out with her.

So far she had collected a sizeable compliment, more than fifty cadets in total, and fortunately everyone had already thought to arm themselves.

Though she worried that not all of their blasters would be functional, there would be time to figure that out after they had confirmed whether or not they were about to be overrun by a horde of hostile aliens.

"Sir, what's the rush." Anit Muu gasped out inanely, as they bust into the cargo hold. Anit was a tall, pretty girl. One which Sila had often thought might have been attractive, if it wasn't for her tendency to be annoying and ask too many questions.

She didn't reply immediately, taking in everything happening in the room first. "We are under attack." She answered and immediately everyone in the hold snapped up.

She slipped seamlessly into command. "Wiram I want those doors open now. Jaki get the E-webs out from storage, we need to reinforce the perimeter around the ship." The loading ramps dropped down with a slam, as cadets rushed around the room, grabbing weapons and unpacking the heavy-blaster cannons from their containers.

As they readied themselves for the dash out the loading ramps, a voice called out from the lift behind them. "What in the Seven Heavens is going on down here?" Sila turned to see Mikra Aluni, one of the members of the Xenology team, looking at them disapprovingly.

Anit, bring useful for maybe the first time ever, spoke up. "You need to leave ma'am." The buzz-cut blonde clipped out in an unusually curt tone. "This ship is under attack, and protocol demands that you be protected." She finished seriously.

The blue-skinned Mon-Calamari snorted, waiving at them dismissively. "Nonsense, if we are to understand the natives we will need to talk with-"

Sila cut her off. "Ma'am I must insist you leave, as we cannot insure your safety here. Go back to the upper levels and tell them to lock down the bulkheads." She waved the older woman back towards the lift.

"We can't just lock you all ou-"

There was a deep bang, followed by a string of cheerful popping noises from outside the landing ramps, and she decided the woman's fate would be in her own hands. "Alright everyone out, I want everyone to try and find cover and be ready to return fire!" She shouted, and they rushed out the door into the fog and darkness.

She tripped almost the exact instant that her feet left the boarding ramp, and she realized her helmet was malfunctioning in the same moment. Which was a pity, they were nicer helmets than most cadets at the academy had, but the fancy electronics in hers seemed to have been fried. The thought chilled her stomach, making her wonder if any of the orders she had shouted while running down the hallways had actually been heard by anyone.

And her foot was still stuck on something despite her worrying. Something that wrapped around her leg and dug through the fabric of her pants, which she couldn't see because the glass on her helmet refused to clear.

Then, there was another deep boom, and suddenly she could see the barbed metal wiring that had wrapped itself around her ankle.

"Major, enemy armor spotted on the horizon!" One of the nearby cadets shouted, from behind a rusty barrel.

"Sir, they're launching star-shells." A different cadet shrieked the obvious, and she growled, dug out her vibroblade and started slashing at the metal wire.

After each slash there was a flash of sparks that burned her retinas, but on the third slash the wire snapped and released her torn pant leg from its strangling grip. She stood, ignoring the sparks of pain from where the metal hooks had dug into her leg "Everyone get into cover, and someone set up those E-Webs!" She roared at them, over the buzzing from the sky.

Buzzing…

Her eyes shot up, and illuminated by the clouds was an alien flying machine, a propeller driven contraption that floated nimbly down on them from on high.

The aircraft's front end lit up with flashes of fire and invisible slugs started tearing the ground all around her, Wilik threw herself flat, shuddering as the spongy soil squelched beneath her and people screamed. She pressed her face-plate into the muck until she was sure that the pilot had pulled up and was speeding back out over the field.

Everyone around her had started shouting, some for orders, and others for medics or just the agonized shrieks that people made when they were dreadfully injured.

"Sith…" She swore, as a handful of brilliant blue sparks trailed after the infernal prop, only for it to flick slightly in another direction, and for the shots to whizz past it. It wiggled its wings as it flew away, and she realized that the thrice-damned pilot was taunting them.

Muu ran up to her. "Sila, I'm starting to think we might be in the middle of an active battlefie-" The other teen's panicked speech was cut off by a series of cheerful warbles as the Crab Droids started firing into the field.

"Everyone in the trenches and Jaki where in the Force are those damn E-webs!" She roared over the chirps of blaster fire and the deeper coughs of alien weapons. Sliding herself down into one of the many gashes cut into the marshy landscape, she swore again, sinking up to her ankles in the slime that coated the bottom of the trench, while the cuts in her leg screamed _"infection!"_ at her.

"Jaki is dead sir!" Anit screamed in panic, as something nearby exploded fantastically.

Sila ripped the face section off of her helmet and tossed it as hard as she could. Then she took a deep breath and started counting. Trying as hard as she could to calm down, and resist the panic that was rapidly overtaking everything in her mind.

"I can't believe this is happening." A nearby private moaned from a hole nearby, where he had wedged himself, up to his chest in water.

She felt herself relaxing slightly. "Who still has their binos?" She called breathlessly down the trench; feeling more calmed after her quick little panic attack.

Another twiggy private, whose identification patch was freshly obscured with slime, raised his hand. "Give me those." She asked, and the boy tossed them to her, then he dove for the dirt as the buzzing started up again, but this time from multiple directions.

She slid her rifle off of her back, setting it against the wall, as she peeked over the trench. The Droids had opened fire earlier, but she could see the tanks and the swarms of humanoid silhouettes following them were still advancing, despite several tanks she could see leaking a thick oily smoke in the background.

The wrecked hulks of the droids between the enemy and her own forces sparked in time with the oily flames, and it gave the whole scene a gut-churning feel.

There was still a lot more armor and infantry closing on their position than she had hoped there would be. A _lot_ more infantry than she had hoped.

They slid swiftly, ducking in and out of trenches and craters with a practiced ease, and she realized that she had started trying to count them unconsciously.

Still, it was the tanks that really worried her. They were petite little things, smaller than the landspeeder her father had on their homestead. But they still sped closer at a rapid pace, their tracks throwing mud into the air as their turrets scanning the terrain with their pointy little cannons, clearly still cautious even after the droids had been dispatched.

She slid down from the lip of the trench to see three cadets wrestling with an E-Web. They carefully slipped the barrel over a dip in the edge of the trench, and one of them saluted her, wiping mud off of his grey uniform. "We've got six in place sir. Should we open fire?" The boy asked in a thick Corellian accent.

"That you Lask?" She probed the familiar voice, unable to identify him under the fresh coating of mud.

The boy nodded, and she continued. "Alright, I want everyone to hold your fire until they close in. And while you're at it, smear some more mud on your uniform so you'll blend in better." She said, addressing everyone.

Another massive boom sounded, and another brilliant white coal shot into the sky.

"That fighter is back!" Someone shouted from a position nearby, maybe noticing the intensifying in the buzzing. "And he brought friends!"

 **2/25/95, Switzerland –Above the Landing Zone**

Lucchini was doing what she did best. She was flying, fighting and annoying the shit out of literally everyone around her.

All in all, she thought to herself as she maneuvered for another strafing run, the day had improved substantially since she had first taken off.

The enemy even had the courtesy to be firing tracers at her, extremely slow tracers at that, and they didn't seem to have any idea how to lead a target either.

Actually, she had noticed that they didn't seem to have anything other than their weird glowy bolts. The scuttling things she had taken a pot-shot at earlier, that had gone on to duke it out with the tanks had been firing those too. She wondered about it, and then stopped because the Allies were back, and mocking the French girl from earlier was too easy.

"Hey… Hey Frenchman I'm hungry, do you have a baguette I could by?" She taunted over the radio, as she spun her nimble fighter within six feet of the Bulldog formation. Squealing to herself, as their formation broke to dodge her. "I'll trade you a pack of cigs, I know how you guys like to smoke."

The Frenchman… Frenchwoman? In question shouted a stream of creative curses into her radio, none of which Lucchini could understand, but the sound they made left her smiling regardless.

"YOU LITTLE SHIT!" The other girl roared in Latin, which she actually did understand. "Stop buzzing my plane and get back here so I can tear you a new asshole!" She gunned her Bulldog's over-sized engine and Lucchini slammed her flaps in response, dropping behind the other girl who sped past her, immediately going into a dive towards the ground.

She buzzed close over Allied army, close enough to make out the painted symbols on the French armor, counting on the other girl to value the lives of her countrymen over revenge.

The Bulldog swept down after her, but as she shot across the fields heading straight for her own lines, and her own Triple-A cover, the angry girl broke off her pursuit.

She grinned, taking altitude again over the massed friendly armor. A few infantry waved at her from the backs of the CV35's as they trundled towards the landed ship.

Then her blood ran cold as her radio exploded. "Francesca Lucchini, what in God's name have you done!" The voice of her Flight Lieutenant, Giuseppina Ciuinni roared over from the speaker, with all the furious authority of the Caesar herself.

Lucchini pulled her plane back into the sky. "It wasn't me this time, I swear." She ran desperate damage control, not looking forward to cleaning toilets for the next month.

"Bullshit!" Ciuinni clearly didn't buy it.

"But it wasn't!" Lucchini found herself whining into her radio in reply.

She could hear the other woman's teeth grinding. "You had one fucking job Lucchini, one fucking job!" She growled.

"Lucchini if I find out this is your fault; I promise you they will never find your body." The woman hissed into her radio. "Because I will murder you and FORGET where I hid it!" She roared again.

Federica butted in before their superior could go on another tirade. "Did you at least get the booze Lucchini?"

"Yeah!" She grinned, happy for the change in subject, as the rest of the Italian air forces in the area began forming up around them.

"Then I forgive you." The other woman finished, sounding completely unconcerned.

Giuseppina groaned into the radio, the stress of handling an entire flight of green pilots clearly straining her. "Alright you idiots form up on me and get ready to run close air support."

 **2/25/95, Switzerland – First Allied Defensive Line**

The Renaults clattered across the trenches. Their skids keeping them from getting stuck, but that didn't block the mud they flung as they roared full speed across the cratered landscape.

Orange Pekoe wiped the grime from her face for the fourth time since they had set out, gritting her teeth in frustration. She hated infantry duty and she hated the trenches, but Darjeeling always said that they had to keep a stiff upper lip, and so she wouldn't complain.

But her insane commander didn't have to drag a bunch of stir-crazy, French and Japanese troops across the no-mans-land… in the dark.

Of course the artillery positions were launching the star-shells, but between the low cloud cover and the fog, they were still left with a visibility of around pea-soup.

Which wasn't much worse than a clear morning in England, but the rest of her forces were more used to fog-less skies.

So no one noticed the mechanical monstrosities, which didn't open fire on the tanks, until they had almost trundled past them.

A bunch of four-legged, crab-like machines burst over-top of the trenches they had hidden in. Dual guns mounted on their bellies spitting bolts of blue fire at them as her infantry dove for cover.

Three of the lead tanks were hit immediately from multiple angles, and skewed over into the dirt, smoke belching from their burning hulls. Pekoe ducked behind a nearby tank as the bolts of energy screamed past, fingering the radio to call in their support. But it was an unneeded gesture, because for all of her faults, Asparagus was actually fairly competent under the right circumstances.

The armor column slewed to a stop immediately, turrets turning and returning fire as they began methodically picking off targets.

Fortunately for them all, the machines didn't seem to be very smart either. They simply skittered across the broken landscape wailing some horrible alien language. And the crabs didn't seem to be really aiming at anything in specific either, with most of their brilliant blue shots going screaming in the general direction of their forces but missing, or coming close but not close enough that they couldn't be easily ducked by the advancing infantry.

It was a rather odd way to start an ambush in her opinion. "I want all squads on high alert." She sighed as something in the distance exploded, and tapped the little command radio built in to her helmets. "I'm almost entirely certain this has to be some kind of diversion."

"What are you rambling about?" Asparagus's crackly voice hissed into her ear piece.

"I don't think this is the enemy's main force." She slid, crouching in a mud filled crater as the energy-weapon fire slackened rapidly under the tanks cannons. "Sodoko, have your forces met the Germans yet?"

"They Krauts are still slacking and… IT. IS. SONO!" The other girl screamed, and Pekoe slapped at the volume knob on the side of her mask.

"My apologies Sono, from the way the rest of your unit addresses you I had assumed-"

The other girl cut her off. "Don't remind me!" She snapped hotly, but Pekoe's attention had already shifted as she could hear at least one of the planes above them going into a dive close nearby.

About five seconds later German monoplane, with pizzas painted on its wings, shot by her at full speed. Screaming swiftly past her, not ten feet from the ground and barely twenty feet in front of where she was crouched.

And a second later, a Bulldog roared past in hot pursuit, and her radio exploded with French curses. She slapped the volume button again; the things would have to be sent back to the labs for tweaking.

She ignored whatever idiocy the pilots were up to, waving her squad into a trench. The massive ship loomed overhead, windows occasionally lighting up from inside.

She hoped the enemy didn't think to place a sniper… or worse a few machine-guns in those windows. The towering vehicle would give an incredible vantage point and make a direct assault with infantry a suicide mission.

Fortunately, their enemy didn't seem to feel the need to succumb to sense. Her troops rushed down the trenches, bayonets fixed and trench knives out, but they were met with nothing at all.

As she rushed with them she found it was almost… dare she even think the word boring? Normally a mission like this would have been a hell-storm of blood and violence already. With seas of poison gas billowing over slime choked trenches, brutal close quarters combat and split-second shots at point-blank range.

They didn't call it the "Meat Grinder" for nothing.

This was boring… a waste of everyone's skills.

That was not a good sign in her experience. When soldiers were bored, ten ton tanks found their way up trees, and _mysteriously_ there would be no one who would know how it got there.

"Everyone on your toes, the enemy could be anywhere." She ground out the instructions into her radio as she slid down a ramp deeper onto the trench.

Then she slammed bodily into something that sent her flying backwards.

For a split second in her mind she panicked. She knew she wasn't exactly a light person, as Asparagus had often reminded her when they weighed in, despite being small she _had_ been built to be a loader after all.

So she wasn't an easy person to toss around, and anyone who could do that to her would need to be taken seriously.

She realized she had run straight into a German at about the same moment as her wires wrapped around his gun. He blinked at her from behind his gas-mask, and stared almost cross-eyed at the almost invisible lines of silver, her eyes glancing at the bayoneted rifle caught pointing between her breasts.

There was a moment then, when the uneasy peace that had been established between their nations was almost broken, as her squad and his both barreled around their respective corners and weapons instantly snapped up at each other.

Everyone stood still for what felt like hours to her, but was probably only a few seconds in reality. Pekoe found herself marveling, suddenly realizing that she had never been this close to a German before without killing them.

That was the thought that brought her back to reality, and a flicker of her will sent the threads of instant dismemberment sliding back into her gloves. "S- Sorry about that…" She blurted out uneasily.

There was a bout of nervous chuckling from the Germans, as weapons slowly lowered all around. "Danke…" The boy who had run into her said quietly, while his unit eyed her warily.

She did know a little German, but figured that they would have their own business under control. She tipped the brim of her brodie helmet at him politely, and waved her troops to follow her.

They hopped over the brim of the trench, and she looked up to see the spaceship looming darkly over them all.

Then the real shooting started.

Rapid bolts of green energy started flying from the trenches below the ship. Pekoe threw herself into a crater. German shouts echoing from somewhere behind her as the squad they had left in the trench opened up with a light machine-gun, returning fire.

Pekoe instantly regretted not bringing a firearm as she crawled towards the fire. Her wires were deadly, but they needed a clear line of sight to actually work.

And she doubted throwing her binoculars would do any good. Though the battery-pack for her radio would likely make a deadly projectile, God knew it was doing enough work on her spine without any additional velocity.

"Grenades!" She called to the rest of her squad, who had crawled up with her. A flurry of mill-bombs, and a few stielhands, flew into the nearby trenches. And there was a rapid series of explosions, followed by an above usual level of screaming.

"Over the top!" A nearby sergeant screamed as the light from the nearest star-shell dimmed, Pekoe she made sure she was the first over.

It was a short run to the base of the ship, and nearly the entirety of the forces deployed were following closely behind.

She stood, cautious of the possibly unstable ground and the heavy weight of the battery-pack on her back.

The fire had completely stopped as they approached the trenches. She could see a few figures struggling back towards the ship. "Hande-Hoch!" A nearby German roared, and half of the figures simply flopped down.

Then there was a flurry of motion and something that sounded like artillery exploded against the ship's hull. Several indistinct shapes slammed into the ground and when the dust cleared someone stood up.

Something deep inside Pekoe's mind slammed into itself. The figure moved in a manner that some animal part of her brain recognized was subtly wrong, and while the outline was generally humanoid, there was definitely something off with its general shape.

Closer inspection showed the figure was dressed in what was probably a nice white dress at some point in the past, nut was now smeared with mud and torn in several places.

But what really caught everyone's attention was the fact that it had a bloody fish head. She figured it was even more surprising considering that all the remaining figures in uniform were visibly human.

They were tall, wide eyed, and covered in trench muck, but still unmistakably people.

And then a series of figures in robes leapt in front of the blue fish creature, and ignited bloody laser swords.

Her wires came out all on their own, not heading towards the figure but unraveling between the remaining enemy's and her own troops. Darjeeling's earlier orders, to take as many prisoners as possible, coming back into her thoughts.

"Hold your fire!" Her troops lowered their weapons slowly but the Nazi's didn't.

Then some idiot launched another star-shell, there were gasps from the Germans as they saw the long strands of garrote wire flashing in the light. Then they started screaming at everyone and Pekoe had, had enough.

 **In the Trenches – Somewhere on Aldebaran 4**

She had been expecting a lot. Mikra Aluni had known better than to think it would be easy, she had known that before that had left Dorin. But nothing in her Xenology studies had prepared her for this.

She had never heard of a planet being this hostile before. Sure there was the occasional misunderstanding or hostile outbreak, but it was almost always was resolved quickly.

The idea that it was the massive technological edge usually held by the Republic that was usually what quelled natives didn't even occur to her.

Her dress kept getting caught on the wooden boards that lined the trenches, and it slowed her progress. But Aluni just told herself that the natives needed her, that she would need to be as fast as she could to preempt the diplomatic disaster that the cadets seemed to be intent on creating.

"After all, it could only be a good thing to help them." She muttered to herself quietly, ripping her once white dress free single-mindedly, while the explosions and sounds of war from all around her became more intense and frequent.

She nearly went slipping on a patch of mud, but a firm hand on her shoulder stopped her from getting even dirtier than she already was.

She spun in place, her heart in her throat. "Oh, thank the stars it's you…" She gasped at the green-skinned Jedi.

Barriss Offee gave her a nonplussed look, and she spent a second envying the Jedi's calm demeanor. "You are supposed to be inside… where it is safe." The teen said in what passed for an annoyed tone for a Jedi, motioning for her to follow.

"But I can get through to them, I know I can." She pressed the other woman. "They just need an explanation, a show of good faith, something to show them we're not hostile!"

Something far away exploded fantastically, and the Jedi frowned. "I very much doubt we will be able to reason with them. These trenches predate our arrival, and we have clearly interrupted something already unstable." Her hand fell to her lightsaber and she pulled them into a concrete door slot cut into the side of the trench. "The best thing we can do right now is get the ship back into orbit and alert the Republic."

There was a clatter nearby, and the Jedi slapped her hand over her mouth, pulling them deeper into the shadow of the abandoned bunker. Her free hand rose to her lips, signaling for her to be quiet.

There was a moment of awkward silence, punctuated by the sounds of far off blaster-fire, and then she heard several people chuckling nervously.

The teen ripped them both from the doorway and started running back towards the ship, dragging her along unwillingly through the maze of trenches as the roar of battle started up in earnest.

"Faster, the cadets can only hold them for so long." The Jedi said hurriedly, as a flurry of blaster-bolts screamed over the top of the trench they were rushing through.

"No one had to die here!" She gasped out in frustration and disgust, almost stumbling over her own tired legs as they rushed back towards the ship. "We could have tried talking to them."

Barriss stopped, and gave her a thin-lipped look. "Talking only works if people are willing to listen…." She trailed off, but something in the way she said it hit Mikra like an out of control speeder.

There was a sense of horror, and she suddenly felt incredibly guilty, almost physically ill. It didn't take much imagination to understand where the teen might have learned a lesson like that; they were standing at the bottom of the chasm as it was.

They had sent children to war. It was an ugly truth that nobody in the Republic wanted to talk about. First there had been the clone army that had appeared from nowhere, and the Kaminoans had shown absolutely no shame when asked about the actual ages of the troopers being sent to die by the hundreds of millions across the galaxy.

But the clones were one thing, they certainly acted like grown men and they had only been intended as a stopgap anyway, just something to stem the bleeding until a real army could be amassed. It had been ignorable, but the Jedi were involved too. And they took their apprentices with them everywhere, including the thick of battle.

And now the cadets were being blooded.

Aluni was no fool. Everyone knew on some level, that the only reason that organizations like the Republic Cadets would be created in the first place was if the Senate thought they might be needed, but she had always ignored that stuff when it came on the news. She had figured that no matter who ended up winning the war, there would always be a need for Xenologists. That it wouldn't matter in the end.

It was a growing feeling of repressed self-loathing that was bearing down in her. Offee almost certainly felt it, but was too busy keeping them both alive to tend to her little pity-party.

The Jedi wordlessly flung them both over the side of the trench and she rolled with the motion, suddenly feeling dizzy, until her eyes returned to focus. The massive hulk of the Hardcell loomed over her, like some monolithic reaper ready to judge.

There was screaming and the thunder of alien weapons and a series of explosions that tore at the ship's hull, knocking deactivated Vulture Droids free, and she found herself suddenly flung back into a nearby crater as they slammed into the ground.

She stood on unsteady legs, surrounded by the bodies of children in uniforms. Then something in her brain ground to a halt.

The fifteen odd cadets that were still alive, had dropped their weapons, and most were kneeling with their hands behind their heads.

It was because they were completely surrounded, that much was obvious, but most of the aliens were shorter than they were. There were gasps of shock, and suddenly every alien weapon present was pointing at her.

The Jedi padawands leapt in front of her, Offee igniting her emerald blade alongside her three fellow apprentices, as Aluni's stomach lurched in terror.

A woman… no a child a mere girl really, in a stiff looking uniform walked up. She straightened a button on her shirt and waved her hand in a dismissive gesture, saying something she didn't understand.

Half of the troops assembled lowered their weapons into an at rest position, but an argument seemed to be ensuing with the remainder. Who she noticed was dressed in different uniforms than the first half. Grey and Red glared at each other for a moment arguing and jabbing fingers at herself and the Jedi.

The argument was interrupted by another deep boom, and suddenly the leading girl turned into some sort of winged sprite. Slivers of shimmering wire wrapped around her back and looped towards those nearby.

Whatever they were debating was quelled instantly, the half that had refused to lower their weapons leaping back in fear the second the brilliant coal of fire plunged into the heavens and illuminated the shining threads.

One of the padawans gaped, and leapt ten feet at the other girl.

And a curious thing happened in that next instant. There was a blur, as the wings of silver flashed, and the redhead sidestepped the flying pile of dismembered body parts had had been a padawan only a second before.

Almost two days later Mikra Aluni would wake up, hog-tied and surrounded by armed guards in a rapidly moving train making a one way trip to Berlin.

* * *

So that was chapter 4… Only a little later than I had hoped, but was moving apartments so I had less time to write recently.

It was shorter than the last one, and the next chapter, which will be finishing up the stuff with the Barriss and the Cadets, will be about the same length.

It was also a little darker than I expected.

 **So Next Time on Hearts of Iron:** Bariss breaks things!


	5. Chapter 5

Twelve days late, but it's finally time for chapter 5. Sorry it took so long, but my work has been kicking it into high gear with the holiday season starting so soon.

That means that the next major update probably wouldn't be until sometime in December, as I will have very little free time in the coming months.

But my whining certainly isn't why you are here. So let's start chapter 5.

 **Hearts of Iron: Chapter** **V** **– Barriss fails to live up to expectations** **, and Nina's luck gets even worse** **…**

* * *

 **Date: 3** **/** **11** **/95** **, Location: Berlin, Block T-22a**

Lena Einstein glared up at her younger brother. Isaak simply raised one of his well plucked eyebrows, his ridiculous glasses switching lenses as he attempted to use his greater height in an arrogant attempt to intimidate her.

"I have said it before, and I will say it again _Doctor,_ " she let the code-name she had gifted him with when they were both very young drip from her mouth; "there will be no experimentation of any kind on the prisoners. We don't have enough of them to start wasting them yet."

"And even if we did, father has expressly forbid it…" She let the sentence trail off with a wave of her hands; it's meaning clear, as she began walking down the hall.

Her brother didn't budge from his metaphorical position, and he used his greater stride to catch up to her quickly. "Come now _Professor_ , we could learn so much from a dissection or two!" She could feel his excitement ripple across the aether as he waved his hand. "I know you're just as eager as I am, to learn more about them."

"Yes, but I have patience…" She raised her eyebrow at him, "and a lab coat that isn't continuously covered in blood or oil." She drawled out, highlighting his ever messy appearance while her eyes trailed idly across the mural painted on the hallways concrete wall.

It was an older painting, with skeletal forms that howled in anguish, their painted blood drooling from their empty eye-sockets while unseen artillery shells ripped across the burning husk of a dreamed city.

It was a familiar mural to her, which she had seen many times before, and it was the one that meant they were close to the hidden hatch she was looking for.

Though it wasn't like she actually needed to use the ladder, she could always simply will herself there if she wished it. The very acknowledgement of that power made her tiny form flicker out beneath her vastly over-sized lab coat, and if anyone had looked at that moment they would have seen nothing but blackness inside her crisp white jacket.

But she stayed her body in place with a flicker of her will, seeing no reason to be rude to her brother by disappearing from his presence so abruptly.

If Isaak had seen anything, he didn't comment.

'The ladder will do fine.' She thought to herself, and it wasn't like he would sneak back to go against her in a matter like as this anyway. "Besides brother, the linguists are having themselves a field day." She said, and he bent down to contradict her but she pushed on. "And don't you have enough work to do anyways? I was under the impression that you had been juggling a dozen different projects Doctor." She finished with a wave of her hand.

The light flickered at her will as they marched down the hallway, and she ignored the sudden change in scenery. "Some of which, I seem to remember being closer to completion than others…"

That got a rise out of him, and he seemed to physically resist the urge to pull his own hair out. "And now I will say to you, what I have said many, _many_ times before. I cannot make any headway with those designs. They will not fly; we simply don't have the technology to lift their bulks free from the pull of gravity." He pinched the bridge of his nose, his blond hair waving as he shook his head. "If you all had listened to me three centuries ago, when we had started that funding black hole, we wouldn't be in this mess."

She shrugged at him, unconcerned as they turned down another hallway and the lights flickered again. "They need all the armor they can get don't they? After all if they are destroyed, our entire plan falls apart."

He sucked air through his teeth, long overdue frustration resurfacing. "Yes I understand that, but do the need so much armor they can't even preform the tasks we created them for?"

She shrugged again, waving him off as they wandered down another flight of stairs. "Have you tried using the alien technology?" She asked him, feeling excitement run down her veins and she gave him a haughty smile. "Wouldn't it be ironic if we could make that happen?"

Her brother seemed to deflate himself at that suggestion. "And that's the problem, even though we understand the _basics_ of how their technology works…" He sighed explosively and rubbed his forehead. "Having physical pieces of equipment to deal with is still a world of difference from merely understanding how something works on paper. So it could be a month or more until we understand enough to start working on replicating it."

"It is very different from our own…" She commented idly, twiddling a pen from her pocket.

His eyebrows rose in incredulity. "Have you actually been down to the labs, or are you just going by hearsay again?" He chided.

Lena allowed a victorious grin to spread across her face. "Even better than that Doctor, I have seen them in function." She flashed him a haughty look. "Who do you think was giving orders the night they arrived on our doorstep?"

Isaak actually stopped in shock, his glasses still whirring on even without his input. "You little…" He trailed off, his mouth hanging open as he glared at her in indignation. "You were there and you didn't tell ME!" He shouted, gesticulating wildly.

"You never asked." She shrugged back at him, relishing in the sensation of pulling one over on him as they walked into a cavernous store room.

He continued sputtering and waving his hands at her for a while, nearly smacking her in the eyebrow at one point. "That doesn't mean you should just go leaving out important details!" He frowned, suddenly seeming to realize that they had been wandering around the stacks of crates and boxes for several minutes. "Where the hell are we going?"

She gave him another shifty grin, and moved to shift a seemingly random empty crate, revealing a steel hatch in the concrete floor. "That my good Doctor… is for me to know and for you to find out later!"

She moved to grab the trapdoor with her bare hands, before her brain reasserted itself and she floated the two-hundred pound steel hatch open instead, freeing a new shaft of light to pierce the massive storehouses gloom.

Her younger brother gave her a disapproving look. "Why do I get the feeling that you're planning something extremely stupid?" He drawled at her, smoothing his lab coat.

"Don't look at me Isaak," she used his hated real name and he gave her an annoyed look, "I'm just following my part in the plan after all."

"That is exactly what worries me." He finished by placing his hands on his hips in disapproval, sensing their conversation had ended.

She grinned as she crouched down into the ladder, and readied herself to slide down. "Be a dear and put the box back on top when I close the door, would you?" She asked him.

"And don't wait up!" She shouted, feeling the pulse of adrenaline as she slid down the ladder, the sound of the metal hatch slamming shut reverberating through the concrete tube she slid down into the abyss.

Well not actually an abyss, more like a very secure room hidden in the bowels of the city.

It wasn't even a big room in actuality. Just a short little corridor with a large steel door, covered in hexes, sealing glyphs, and other symbols of the occult, and guarded by a pair of elite Schreiber.

The two men saluted to her crisply, a slight anxiety fluttering just below the surface of their well-ordered minds.

"The prisoner was brought here just as you ordered Professor." The younger of the two chirped out crisply, scratching nervously at his collar as he answered her unasked question.

Lena simply nodded, walking straight up to the massive door. Her hand rested on the warm steel and she readied herself to open the door, but a sudden presence stopped her. "Schrödinger do you actually have business here, or is this just a pleasure visit?" She turned, seeing both of the Schreiber slumped unconscious on the floor, one of her least favorite creations standing there and smirking at her from between their unconscious bodies.

He straightened his collar. "I'm all business today unfortunately." He seemed to actually be annoyed at that, and it made Lena wonder if actually having to do his job instead of just annoying people was leaving a bad taste in the androgynous teen's mouth.

She tried to find it in her to care for the other ghost, and she failed spectacularly. "Does Max require my presence?"

He grinned down at her. "Good guess…Mother." The boy's lips practically molested the familial term. "Something about an acceleration being in the works, and him needing your presence as soon as is convenient" He waved his hand flippantly.

"Tell him I will arrive when I am finished with my preliminary interrogation."

Schrödinger just grinned larger, flipping her with a lazy salute. "Heil!"

Then the aether flickered and he was gone. Lena entertained the notion of waking the scribes up, and then dismissed it. They had been guarding the door for who knows how long, and she could handle herself against a single restrained teen.

They could certainly be afforded a little rest.

She smiled to herself as the hexes on the door vanished, their steel bulk swinging open on well-oiled hinges. "Wake up my sleeping beauty." She crooned to herself happily as she stepped into the darkened hallway.

 **Date: Unknown, Location: Unknown**

Barriss's head was pounding, her mind cloudy, and her thoughts thick and languid. Something terrible had happened to her, she was sure of it.

TERRIBLE VIOLENCE… DEATH OF COMPANIONS …

Her thoughts flickered dimly and she unconsciously reached out with the Force, fumbling around blindly. She tried to shift, and her limbs failed to respond. They felt stiff and unresponsive, with their articulation clearly being restrained by something that was both soft and unyielding.

BLOOD MIXED IN MUD… APATHY TO BRUTALITY…

A flicker passed through the Force, a presence she did not recognize. It didn't seem hostile though, merely rubbing across the surface of her mind, feeling almost affectionate.

MENTAL & PHYSICAL PAIN… UNIFORMED CORPSES…

She opened her eyes stiffly, but there was nothing for her to see, just blackness lurked beyond their lids.

'I was drugged…?' She thought, as the reality if the situation began to sink into her bleary mind.

Then the flashes of memory slammed into her psyche with all of the subtly of a turbolaser salvo, and Barriss fought against the urge to retch.

She had failed… they all had failed…

They had been blasted from the sky, drawn out, and defeated in detail. The cadets had been obliterated…seemingly having been killed off almost completely in their scramble to defend the ship. The scientists and researchers had been presumably been captured, along with the warship itself.

The entire thing had been an absolutely terrifying experience, so much so that she had collapsed when Linu had been… 'NO!' she stopped the thought befrore it could blossom. Her friend hadn't merely been killed, she had been butchered. Cut to literal ribbons with a casual ease, by a Force user who had looked half her age, and who had been more annoyed by the bickering from her own troops than anything she or the cadets had done.

Barriss herself had been outflanked in that instant of weakness, by one of the rapidly closing mass of soldiers. Someone had clubbed her hard in the back of the head in that singular moment of distraction.

The next thing she knew they had all been handcuffed, and while the ship was boarded, they were made to kneel in the mud and listen to the shouts and sounds of weapons fire that echoed out from the loading ramp.

It had been awful, but the thing that was really the most frightening thing was how blasé the soldiers that had captured them had been acting.

Had they been soldiers though? They had been carrying weapons and equipment. The landscape had certainly seemed like a battlefield.

But they had all been so young, even the girl that had seemed to be leading them had felt barely as old as Ahsoka.

And they really didn't seem all that concerned with their prisoners. Those guarding them spent most of the time gawking at Professor Aluni's unconscious body, or arguing with each other in several distinct and equally undecipherable languages.

But even the arguing had been mostly casual; despite the inkling feeling Barriss had that they weren't all from the same sides. They didn't seem overly concerned about being next to their former enemies, giving each other nothing more hostile than a few scowls or brief strings of heated gibberish.

It had made her wonder again, just what exactly had been going on with this planet.

She had been unable to ascertain that though, there had not been enough time. As they had knelt in the mud, someone had shoved a rag over her mouth. The harsh chemical smell it emitted preceded almost instantaneous unconsciousness.

She had woken only once, feeling like something was pricking the back of her wrist. It had felt like a needle of some sort, which she supposed made sense.

They had clearly drugged the survivors of the battle, probably for ease of handling. Which was a thought that begged the question, of where exactly she was now? To what end they had been kept alive, why had they been attacked in the first place?

The fabric covering her head shifted as she rolled, and she became distinctly aware of another presence… one that was in the room with her.

She didn't sense it through the Force though, but she didn't need to because the other person chuckled. A childish voice called out to her in heavily accented Basic. "Now what do we have here?" The unseen figure questioned.

The hood was pulled off slowly, and the first thing she saw was the cheerful face of yet another child. "You have had enough sleeping now yes?" The cherubic girl withdrew slightly at her stiff nod, and she was able to take in her surroundings.

They were in a tiny padded cell, less than six feet across, with a white dome on the ceiling providing illumination and some sort of spongy material covering all of the walls. The professionally dressed child, who looked around eight, sat on a small stool grinning at her in a pleased manner. As Barriss watched her, she tossed the hood behind her casually and leaned forward, eagerly tapping her clipboard with what appeared to be some kind of plastic stylus.

Barriss probed with the Force, trying to gauge if there was anyone else around, specifically the Force user that had killed Linu. It felt like they were alone. Though there was a pair of unconscious presences beyond the door and down the hallway, probably just guards napping on duty, there was no one else she could feel nearby.

A jolt of lightning shot down her spine before she could even think of escape, and she yelped in shock. Her limbs jerked in the cloth prison that bound them. The little girl placed something back inside her crisp white jacket, and waggled her finger at Barriss in a teasing way. "Naughty, naughty!" Her childish voice squeaked out in clear amusement.

"I wish for your thoughts to be focused on questions today." The apparent Force user said in a perky tone. "Not on those stiffs down the hallway." Her little blonde eyebrows wiggled.

"W… Where am I?" Barriss found her voice sore and scratchy, like it had gone unused for a long time.

The child chuckled, pointing to a decorative sigil on the lapel of her coat as though that explained everything. "You are in Berlin…" She said, grinning cheerfully.

The word was unfamiliar, as was the crest on her lapel, which wasn't all that surprising. "Berlin?" She scratched out the alien word.

"The capitol of the Third Reich, it is located in Deutschland specifically." She answered, in what she probably believed was a helpful manner, but was little more than a half-way understandable slew of gibberish to Barriss.

"Where are the cadets? Are the scientists alright? What about-" The questions started pouring out before she could stop them, but the girl cut them off.

"Your companions are all in good health." Her cheerful look dimmed with fury for a flash, but it was gone so fast she was left wondering if she had really seen it. "Those that survived; that is." The girl flipped her long blonde hair and scribbled something onto her clipboard. "They were most uncooperative when _my_ forces arrived." She said, in an almost haughty manner which Barriss found odd, considering both the dress and undercurrent of hostility between some of the troops from before.

She reached out to the girl with the Force, and her stomach lurched powerfully. This child felt wrong, she didn't feel like a child should.

Actually, when she reflected on it, everything about the situation had felt wrong. It had been there from the first moment they had entered the system. She had sensed a growing sense of dread; the Force giving her a warning.

But no one on the ship had listened to her.

It was something that a Jedi had to be able to deal with, something she had thought long and hard on. That people still ignored their advice had always confused her. That the peoples of the galaxy would call them for council, and then promptly ignore whatever advice they gave, it had left her with no shortage of grief.

"W-what is going on here?" Barriss asked the child who was not a child, confusion thick in her voice as she winced from her throat scraping against itself, and she tried not to tremble in pain. "What did we do to you… why did you shoot us down?" She found herself pleading for answers.

A tiny hand ran itself through her uncovered hair, and she found herself looking into the face of the girl, she was giving her a look no child her age should have been able to.

It was an expression of sadness and compassion, mixed with understanding.

"Fear not, young Psyker. Those of your company who still draw breath will be safe here… under my hospitality." She whispered the sweet words warmly, the Force thick around them, and for a moment Barriss almost believed that all could be set right again. Then her cherubic face turned wiry, and she cupped her chin. "After all, your part in this play is almost over, but the show must go on for the rest of us." She continued to smile, now almost sadly at that.

Then she snapped back, suddenly looking as professional as an eight-year old could possibly appear. "Now back to the questions… Let's start with your name, shall we?"

 **2** **/** **10** **/95, USSR – Pravda** **Underground**

Nina squeaked awake, slammed her head into the top of her bunk and immediately started cursing. Yet another nightmare had come to plague her sleeping mind.

Her dreams had been like this for weeks, since everything had gone to hell and everything seemed to be pointing to it being entirely their fault.

No one else had seemed to remember much about the events of that frigid night. Nina herself could recall that there had been shots fired, and a strange chirping she could hear through the opened view slots in the walkers armor, followed by a mess of cursing and garbled sentence's over her radio.

And she remembered that when she had slid down the hatch that was wedged beneath her tiny chair, and into the freezing cold at Oleg's orders, that the sight hat had greeted her had been like something from a fever-dream. Snow swirled around Nonna, who had been almost literally hysterical. Their giant commissar crouched in the snowdrifts, illuminated eerily by headlights, shouting orders as she cradled Katyusha's limp body in her arms.

Their ship had sunk faster than a Grotte driving over a frozen lake.

In the flickering light cast by the headlamps of the walkers and transports, chaos broke loose in the taiga.

Every new person to exit a vehicle seemed to go into panic mode mode. Whether at their stricken commander, at the hideous machine that lay still twitching in the snow on the other side of her walker, or at their giant commissar's helpless rage, there was no one who seemed to have any idea how to handle t any of it.

And then it had really started snowing.

Nina had climbed back inside her walker, ignoring the insistent questions from her comrades, about what was going on outside. She had slammed the controls on her radio with freshly numbed fingers, and shouted desperately at the pilot overhead to climb above the coming storm and radio for help.

Nearly five days later she had been informed that her quick thinking had awarded her a medal. The shiny bronze star was pinned on her dress uniform in Moscow, waiting for her there in the even that she actually lived long enough to wear it.

But that knowledge hadn't made her memory of the days they had spent hunkered in the freezing cold, listening to the maddening howls of the wind outside her walker, or of the numbing walks in the drifting snow to find boxes of airdropped supplies, any more pleasant in retrospect.

That the week had passed in a blur after the storm had finally cleared was smaller comfort. She had found herself almost wishing that the snow had lasted longer; it had been such simplicity, brutal and uncompromising but simple, compared to what had followed.

Because as soon as the blizzard had cleared enough for it, Moscow had sent the entirety of the 5th army out to their little city. And that meant that such straightforwardness was quickly beyond her reach.

She had awoken on the sixth day to a commotion outside, quickly realized that no one else was inside their walker, and so she had promptly squirmed her way to the commanders cupola at the vehicles top.

And she saw more armor through the viewslots than she had ever seen before in her life… which really was saying something. Thousands of tanks, and other vehicles of all varieties, littered the outside world. Their tracks having crushed the snow banks flat under their weight.

And there had been spooks and scientists galore, and they all wanted to interview absolutely everyone, and that meant that they all had to stay sober for interviews.

It made for a frustrating week for everyone involved.

Everyone, _but_ the shrinks that would be. The scientists had been ecstatic. Running around like a hive of lab-coat wearing bees, begging questions from anyone who would give them the time of day. The closest they had come to settling down was when Nonna had thrown a professor twenty feet into a working space-heater for suggesting they dissect the still unconscious Katyusha to learn more about the mysterious variety of energy weapon.

That had been a weeks ago at least. Nina wasn't sure of the exact time-frame, sleepless nights huddled in the belly of her walker had been followed by an endless hurry to answer so many questions from so many people that it all swam together into a blur.

Despite the fact that they were home now, back in her beloved Pravda, the memories refused to fade. She KNEW that something monumental had happened, she just didn't know what.

"You alright Nina?" Alina, asked from one of the beds below. Her gloved fingers gripping on the wooden edges of Nina's bunk as the slightly taller girl pulled herself up to stare at her.

She felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment. "I'm fine, I'm fine… just grab my vodka for me will you?" She waved at the other girl, who merely grinned at her in response then slipped out of sight.

"Isn't it a little early to be hitting the bottle?" The other teen jibed rhetorically, giving her a sly grin as she walked backwards from the bunks. "Johan will never let us hear the end of it, especially if he finds you drunk again."

"It's not like I have inspection today." She groped her bed for her hat. "And the German can go fuck himself." Nina spat in halfhearted annoyance. It was just her luck that she ended up with the only Nazi on the entire damn planet that didn't drink.

The brunette snorted in agreement. "Not like those guys have a lot of room to talk anyways. And I suppose we are in the middle of fucking Siberia." Nina pulled herself back into a sitting position, and she watched her friend's free hand wave through the air, while she went about digging thought the pile in the corner of the barracks.

There was a deep rumbling of tanks treads above their heads, which she could hear over Alina's triumphant shout, and Nina watched the little trails of dust that broke free from the ceiling. Nina briefly worried about the bunker's structural integrity, but banished the thought when the other Slav returned with a big bottle of their favorite vice.

"So what's on the agenda today?" The other radioman growled, ripping the cork out with her teeth.

Nina snorted, sliding off of her bunk to squat next to the other girl on the floor. Alina passed her the bottle and she took a deep swig of the burning liquid, letting the alcohol shake though her system. "Nothing much that I know about, just staring at the poor saps manning the ZSU's… and drinking, lots and lots of drinking."

Alina laughed happily. "I can drink to that."

It was a casual moment that they both desperately needed, where they both passed their bottle back and forth, and ignored everything that had gone wrong since they had been sent out into the snow. The roof rumbled every once in a while, but the alcohol helped them ignore the disturbance. It made it easy to ignore everything, and that made it a temptation they didn't even bother to resist.

So freshly awake, with empty stomachs, and a burning desire to ignore their problems, it wasn't long until they were both piss drunk.

Their state probably didn't do much to impress Clara, when the _relatively_ friendly NKVD officer marched into their almost abandoned barracks only a short while later.

The statuesque blonde blinked at them, pinching the bridge of her nose. " _Really_ you two?" She said in an exasperated groan.

Nina stumbled back onto her butt as the blonde entered, her head swimming pleasantly at the way the young woman frontal armor swayed while she walked. "N… Not like we got anything else to do." She slurred out, while the tall blonde grabbed their bottle. Weighting it in her hand and frowning down at them like the henpecked nurse she technically was.

Alina flopped over next to her with a groan. "S… it's not like the Capitalists are gonna do anything. Not like we could help even if they did." She tried to stand and ended up falling on her butt as well. "I-I'm a radioman for fucks sake I…. can't man an anti-air…aircraft gun." The other girl snorted at Clara.

The door to the barracks slammed open and Oleg marched in, clearly already in a foul mood. "Thunder and lightning!" The Slav swore in German, as soon as he saw them. "Can't you idiots stay sober for one day…? I manage it!" He waved his arms in frustration.

Then he waved at her, and his hand smeared across her vision. "Especially you!" He jabbed his accusing finger at her, and Nina frowned in response.

"I-I don't need to be sober to work the radio." She slurred out, insulted by the very notion. "I've been doing it since I was a baby." She pointed her hand back in his general direction.

Her superior didn't look impressed, despite the truth in her statement. Fortunately Clara, bless the woman's heart, came to her defense. "Come now, nothing wrong with a little drink now and then." She said casually, taking a small sip from the bottle.

"I think it's pretty clear that they've had more than a little…" Oleg scowled, still clearly unhappy. Then his countenance brightened. "But actually ma'am, I came to tell you that Katyusha is awake again."

Clara's eyes nearly dropped from her skull. The tall blonde tossed the bottle into his hands, almost flattening him as she went barreling out the door past him.

Nina didn't need to be a tactician to know that their luck had just run out. The grin across his unshaven face told them enough. "Looks like I just got a pair of new volunteers for the breastworks…" He took a sip from the bottle, letting his sentence trail, as he luxuriated in his suddenly superior position.

Nina only had one thing to say about that. "Well shit…"

 **2** **/** **10** **/95,** **France** **–** **Paris Training Grounds**

There was an awkwardness permeating the locker-room. It wasn't the stiffness of their clothes and equipment, or even the knowledge that this was their last training session before they could officially join the Allied forces. After ten years of training, now they only had to survive one more session and they would be real soldiers.

No, if he had to guess. Reginald would have presumed that the three platoons of Axis trainees, who had somehow replaced the French Company he had been told they were going to run the exercise with, was probably the main cause of all their unease.

The Nazi's, for their part had remained cordial enough, even if they were a little distant, cleaning their reserve weapons with the attention to detail that everyone in his unit expected of them. He figured they probably felt as awkward about the whole thing as his own Company did.

That the mixed Axis platoon had disappeared off into the lockers left him feeling slightly worried though.

But he had been given a task to preform, and he was going to see it done. Even if he had to do it with their help, if that was what was ordered of him then so be it.

And that was their orders, pretty much exactly. As all three of his lieutenants had informed him not five minutes ago, while he had been helping one of their medics fasten her gas-mask.

"Since we're on a forty eight hour timer, I suggest that we rush the main road and take the central compound." The redheaded Nazi Lieutenant said, pointing a gloved finger to what Reginald assumed was supposed to be a mock-up of a bombed out factory. "There seems to be a decent fire-clearance and we can even back the tanks up through the walls if they are thin enough. It'll provide a good place to hold out as any."

"Not a lot a weight in your PZ-2's." Enrique, his own lieutenant griped. "You sure they can make it through the walls?"

"Our panzers will be fine Anglo." The second German Lieutenant growled out. "Just make sure you cover your French scrap-piles so they make it to the fucking building."

"Oh, come on!" One of his tankers called out from her locker nearby. "What's wrong with the Renault?"

The blonde snorted, and smoothed out her yellow Volkssturm uniform. "You mean besides the fact that it has no machine-gun, and its armor is worse than the Panzer-I?"

"Down Oberleutnant." The German Major interrupted the brewing argument, with a tone that left the German girl sputtering. "We have no place to argue about such matters, we must work with the equipment we have been allocated." He grimaced, brushing curly blonde locks from his eyes and back up under his helmet. "Whether we think it is sufficient or not is irrelevant."

The motion made Reginald's lips quirk. He wondered if the other boy realized how girly the gesture made him look. "Ten Renaults and ten Panzer-II's," he made an honest attempt to pronounce the German term correctly, "do you think that will be enough to break through to the building Hapmann?"

"I would normally say yes…" The other Major shrugged. "But with all of the spooks coming together to share their nasty secrets, I am not so sure anymore."

And that was the real kicker. There was no doubt that the scientists and Psychers would pull out all the stops on them this time. He shivered unconsciously at the though, and he was glad that he had already donned his trainee boiler-suit. The last time they had gone through a session, he had spent all of the next few nights calming his troop's night terrors, and that had been before the unexpected peace had broken out and brought all the bastards together in one place.

"We've got enough flamethrowers and anti-tank weapons…" He left the "I hope" part of his statement unsaid.

Hapmann nodded and spun in place, clearly having decided the plan was sufficient. "Schaumann, where is Vodka?" He snapped at his female lieutenant.

The steel haired girl snorted, and shrugged in an unconcerned manner. "If I had to guess, I would say living up to her name." She rolled her eyes while Major Adelger swore.

"Slavs, I tell you" The male lieutenant shrugged good-naturedly, while Hapmann stormed off to find the Russian girl.

Reginald took that as a sign that they were starting, "Deryn, Enrique, go and get Xing. We need to get this show on the road." He barked, and they snapped to attention, rushing deeper into the maze of steel lockers.

The two Nazi officers had a quick exchange in German while he sighed to himself. As that familiar feeling settled into his bones, the one he got when they were about to leap into the lions mouth and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Well bugger me bloody…"

Twenty minutes later their two companies, one hundred and fifty strong each, were parked in front of the massive steel doors that would open and release them into hell.

The tanks engines were not running yet, but they were already crewed and their guns pointed at the giant sliding doors. He had wanted to take no chances today.

Hapmann nodded to him as the clock above the doors ticked the last few seconds down. Though his face was hidden by his gas-mask he could see that the German was as dedicated to his troops as Reginald was to his own. The other boy would have stood by him for that reason alone, even if his mission hadn't required they cooperate.

He grimaced, jerking as the red klaxons lining the top of the door started to whine and those doors began sliding apart, revealing the massive darkened room that was to be their purgatory for the next two days.

Training rooms of this type were massive caverns, built to be able to be changed quickly to simulate a variety of environments under well controlled conditions. This one was five miles across, though the ceiling was less than two hundred feet high.

Not that they could see the ceiling though.

It looked like the spooks had decided to simulate a shitty, bombed out landscape under heavy fog. He could see a few broken trees scattered across his vision, and the slightly raised road they had been planning to travel down. Besides that there was nothing, it was dark and foggy with vision at less than two hundred feet.

"Suka!" The Russian Lieutenant swore into the darkness. She was a stumpy, angry girl who contrary to what everyone had thought, had not been drinking when they found her. Instead she had been overseeing the service their single BT-7a, the SPG being the heaviest gun in their entire force.

Said tank was currently bringing up their rear guard with the Panzer-II's.

He braced himself, gripping his rifle tightly. "Move out!" Reginald shouted to his forces after nothing leaped from the fog to tear their faces off.

"All troops charge!" Xing shouted in response, and the energetic boy led his troops first down the road, his sword in one hand, and his shitty Japanese sub-machine gun in the other.

And that forced them all to follow him into the too quiet landscape to keep him from getting cut off, because being cut off meant dying alone.

The tanks engines rattled to life as they set forwards, with the mud squelching under their boots and the single artificial light casting flickering shadows across dark landscape from far away.

It was not what he had been expecting, he admitted to himself as they marched in the fog, slinking down the road dirt road. The armor clattering forwards in single file. He had thought they would have been beset on all sides by waves of horrors from the very start. The fact that they had seen nothing so far, but a few stands of dead trees and some small shattered buildings looming from the fog, was worrying to say the least.

Hapmann walked up to him casually, fingering the trigger of his MP-3008. "You think it's too quiet Rees…" He trailed off, unstrapping his gas-mask. "I think so also."

Reginald shrugged. "Maybe, if we're lucky, it will stay that way." They both knew it was a fool's hope before he had even finished the sentence, but he had said it anyways.

"Major, the Asian says his platoon found something!" A dark haired Russian raced back down the column as though summoned by his words, shouting her best attempt at English. "He says there are a bunch of weird things sticking out of the ground on either side of the road."

They both swore in their respective languages, and they shouted for the tanks to double-time it. "All my rations on him trying to hack the fucking thing with his sword before we even get there." He growled, and Hapmann grinned in amusement.

"Is he Japanese?" The other boy asked while they started running. When he nodded the blonde just laughed. "Then I'm not taking that bet."

It was probably a good thing, as they hadn't even reached the front of the column when a tremendous roar burst from the fog.

"Well fuck me!' He cocked his rifle, as an entire platoon worth of swearing Japanese and Chinese troops burst from the fog racing towards the relative safety of their tanks.

Reginald strained his eyes, searching the rushing infantry for Xing's face, but his third lieutenant didn't appear. That meant the other boy was either dead or cut off… He hoped he was just cut off. Xing was energetic, but the boy was loyal to a fault, and good in a pinch.

"Where is the Lieutenant?" He shouted at the approaching infantry.

They ignored his question, but one of the girls slid into a nearby crater nearby, and screamed. "Tanks get ready to open f-!" It was as far into the sentence as she got, as a five foot long bone scythe shot from the fog and impaled her thought the chest.

Then the leg-thick barbed tentacle the scythe was attached to retreated, ripping her gurgling body away with it into the fog, and there was a deep almost bubbling sound from all around them.

Six eyes, glowing like red embers, appeared hovering in the fog nearly thirty feet in the air. Reginald panicked. "Fuck! Fuck! FUCK! OPEN FIRE!" He screamed, a little more shrilly than he normally would have liked, as something massive shifted just beyond the mist and a dozen of the barbed claw tipped tentacles lashed out at the landscape.

A dozen different types of small-arms spat hot lead at the abomination, which roared at them in defiance, and thundered from the fog.

It was a huge hellish beetle, but it was also some horrific squid. Venomous tentacles lashed from beneath its armored head, and the larger barbed appendages lashed from either side of its short neck while it barreled towards them on six column-like legs.

He threw himself on the ground as a Renault barreled hurriedly past him, trying to get shots into the monsters flank.

The tiny auto-cannon on the tank flashed rapidly in the darkness with a series of cracks, leaving afterimages in his vision. He could see that the tank was firing tracer rounds, which sparked on the creature's armored carapace, but they did no damage.

A horrible screeching sound came from the darkness, and the unlucky Renault suddenly levitated ten feet in the air and went sailing above him. Slamming into the ground behind him with a cataclysmic crash, as a second set of eyes glowed from the fog.

Then there was a fainter thud and the space between the newest abominations eyes exploded with a massive burst of fire, as the BT-7a's gun hit home.

There was a sickening screech, and ground trembled as the unseen body slammed into the ground with force.

And that just left the first monster, which was still busying trying to carve them to pieces, to deal with.

A PIAT shell whistled by his head as Reginald tried to stand, and he slid back into the muck to duck it. His rifle freed itself from his grip and clattered on something somewhere nearby, but he ignored the loss. His pulse was pounding in his ears as more people screamed, and the tiny fucking cannons on their tanks continued pattering the abomination, accomplishing essentially nothing.

"Aim for its tentacles!" His second lieutenant Deryn shouted above the din. "Cut the scythes from its wretched body!" He glanced and saw the girl standing atop a Panzer-II's turret, directing the rapidly firing cannon with her sword.

Several tentacles were ripped from its body by bloody volleys of explosive shells, and then creature reared up on its back legs, as though to smash the tanks under its hooved feet.

There was an instant in that moment when Reginald realized it was looking directly at him. Six alien eyes stared into his two as it towered over him.

Then another shell from the BT-7a slammed into its midsection and the things stomach burst open with a sickening plopping sound.

Its body went crashing backwards slowly, almost leisurely as it gurgled. There was a whoosh of foul smelling air as it slammed into the ground, it sickened his senses and he felt bile rising in the back of his throat.

Then there was stillness, which was broken almost instantly. "Alright, I for one say we get the fuck… to that fucking factory…" One of the German sergeants gasped out, reloading his pistol with trembling fingers.

Reginald looked up, his mind taking a second to process the clusterfuck that had just occurred. "Casualties?" He groaned, while everyone picked themselves up.

Hapmann emerged from the fog, coated in mud. "I've only counted four so far, plus the Renault and its driver."

"The commander?" He found himself asking.

Hapmann shrugged gazing at the ground; a Reginald realized that they had both lost their weapons. "She seemed to have been tossed from the vehicle before it landed. Girl's hurt but not bad."

He nodded at the other boy, a dark sense of amusement slinking through as he spied his rifle in a crater. "Just think Hapmann, we only have another mile and a half to the factory."

The other boy chuckled grimly, drawing his sword and Luger from their hilts. "And if we are lucky, we will have just enough troops for everyone to die before we reach it."

 **Date: Unknown, Location: Deutschlan** **d,** **Berlin, Solitary Confinement Cell**

"Your name is Barriss Offee. You were born in 40…BBY… and are of the Mirialan race?" The girl, who had introduced herself as Professor, finished uncertainly. The child gave her an inscrutable gaze with her unsettling golden eyes. "These statements are correct are they not?"

Barrass nodded again, figuring the child was close enough, so she just sat back and continued to enjoy the weirdest conversation she had ever had, which was saying something.

Because if talking to Yoda was difficult, this was just an abstractly confusing mess.

The Professor had already made her answer a variety of menial questions, often cutting her off to have her explain every single detail of her sentences, or reword entire statements to fit some alien logic the child's mind seemed to be running on.

It was made all the harder by the fact that she had clearly learned Basic in an obtuse manner; as though she was self-taught in the language instead of having picked it up naturally. Which Barriss supposed did make sense when she thought about it, as no one else she had heard speaking had seemed to know Basic.

But she still would have suspected the girl was messing with her, if it wasn't for the fact that the blonde was scribbling furiously in her pad with almost every word Barriss had said.

She thought it was weird way to have a conversation, but not entirely unwanted one. After all, if she ignored the Force, she could almost pretend that she was just having a discussion with a _relatively_ normal, if painfully uneducated, little girl.

While she sat on the cushioned floor she could feel the little ripples, which characterized an eagerness to learn pouring from the child's form, washing the room in anticipation.

The blonde smiled at her slyly. "Now that we have covered the most basics, we can move on to more interesting subjects!" The girl gushed excitedly.

"How about we start with where you have come from…" She asked curiously.

Barriss blinked, shifting on the cushions. "Our ship left Naboo only a few weeks ago…" She lied, in what she hoped was a smooth manner.

If the girl noticed, she didn't say anything. Merely nodding and scribbling something down. "Naboo… this is an important place?"

"It is an important cultural center, if that is what you mean."

"Is there a large military presence there?"

Barriss mulled over which way to answer, willing the Force to cloud her thoughts from outside inspection. "There is a significant force deployed there because of the risk of Separatist attacks, both in orbit and on the planet's surface."

That seemed to peak her interest, and the gold in her eyes flickered as they lit up in interest. "These Separatists, they are the enemies of your people?"

She nodded slowly. "They recently broke away from the Republic, which is where I am from."

"Such divisiveness…" The girl chided her, a cheerful smirk coloring her features as she kicked her shoes against the stool.

A stool Barriss noticed was made of some sort of wood. It seemed to fit the strange, quasi-primitive, level of technology that seemed to be in use. "Is there no division on your world? I seem to recall landing on what looked like a vicious battlefield." She found herself replying unhappily.

The Professor merely grinned widely at that. "A wise man once said that, 'the more you bleed in practice, the less you will bleed in battle', we have merely taken this wisdom to heart."

"Yet why battle us, we are not your enemies." She pleaded with the girl. "Or at least we were not before now."

The child gave her a haughty smile. "And yet those you have judged unworthy of your attention have deemed you fit for theirs." Her stylus tapped the board chidingly. "We have known about your civilization for a thousand years Psycher, and for a thousand years we have been preparing for this moment."

The girl sniffed at her proudly. "When two civilizations meet, the more powerful one always subverts the weaker." The Professor gestured grandly at the confines of her tiny padded cell. "And so because we love our cultures, and our peoples, we have seen fit to make ourselves your superiors."

The words seemed like the very epitome madness to Barriss. "You couldn't even have a billionth the population of the Republic, how can you possibly expect to win against it?" She found herself, almost shouting at the child, who merely regarded her outburst with a calm smirk.

"Yet I know that each of our old soldiers is equal to a million of your children…" her grin widened, "Barriss, your nation is one of decadence and hedonism. You people are soft and your worlds are vulnerable. Our single planet has more infrastructure than a billion of your worlds combined."

She gave Barriss an almost pitying look, and waved her clipboard. "It is merely nature for those who are strong to rise up when the mighty weaken." Her smile widened. "And we are very strong Psycher…"

"A rather callous opinion if I had ever heard one…" She replied automatically. "Is that why you send children to fight your battles?"

The blonde, for her part, didn't even bat an eye. "It takes less than a week of training to shoot a firearm proficiently. Why should we wait, if there is no reason not to?"

"That's horrible!" Barriss said in shock, faced with something so brutally opposite of the morality she had grown up with.

"Is it not the way of the universe?" She shrugged, smiling in that same almost apologetic manner. "You adapt, evolve, compete, or you die."

Then a knock came from the door, painfully loud after their relatively subdued conversation, and the girls grin instantly died. "JA! Was ist es?!" She shouted at the door in annoyance.

The person on the other side mumbled something unintelligible, and the Proffessor sighed. She quickly hopped off her stool and opened the door, revealing an apologetic looking man, in rather ornate black robes, rubbing a very shiny bald head.

There was a quick exchange, wherein the girl did a large amount of angry stomping and arm waiving, and the man wrung his hands and looked nervous, and they seemed to be unable to agree on anything.

Finally the Professor grimaced, and turned to Barriss. "It seems that our time is over… for now." The child nodded to the man, who swept back from the doorway, and held it open for her to leave.

"Wait," Barriss found herself gasping, "where are you going?"

The girl cast a cool backwards glance. "I'm going to help prepare our nation to greet the next wave of your companions of course." She said a tone that told Barriss that the answer should have been obvious.

"Until next time Psycher…" Her voice trailed off as the door swung shut with a climactic thud, and Barriss was left alone to dwell on her failures.

* * *

So that's chapter 5 done, which means now we can actually get back to the meat of the actual plot.

While I probably wont be able to add to the main plot in the next month or so, I do plan on working on several one-shots. One about Miho and Maxwell's first real meeting, and the other about the fate of the Allied and Axis Trainees that are mentioned in this chapter.

Also, Barriss didn't break anything... I suppose i will have to rectify that at some point in a future chapter.

I blame WarThunder.

 **So Next Time on Hearts of Iron:** The Republic invasion, also Yukari and her entire Fallschirmjäger platoon sings the Führer's Face.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 is here, and I want to start off by thanking everyone who has favorated the story or left a review. I do enjoy knowing people appreciate my work.

This all would have been done much sooner, but between peak season at work and the general insanity of the holiday seasons, I have been too busy to write most days.

* * *

 **Date: NA, Location: NA**

Rex was dreaming, he knew that because it was something he very rarely did, and he still remembered going down for the cycle after listing to another of his general's rants.

Suffice to say, Skywalker had not been happy when the Senator's ship had dropped out of communications. The Son of Suns had been even less pleased when the signal had returned and they all learned that the ship had been in the process of being shot down.

It had taken General Kenobi almost an hour to convince the younger man that hopping into command of whatever ship would allow him to commandeer it and rushing off to rescue Padme and the others, would be a poor decision.

Especially as the chancellor had apparently seen this coming and had a sizable fleet waiting nearby to bail the young woman out of trouble.

Considering how many times that he and General Skywalker had been forced to rescue the woman, Rex privately figured it was about time someone had made that decision.

And personally Rex had to agree with Kenobi on this one, though he decided kept that particular line of thought to himself. Nothing about the situation they were in seemed to make any sense. So with Skywalker convinced to wait for the fleet to report in, Rex had figured that he could lay down for a couple of hours without Anakin stealing a cruiser and talking off without him.

Still, the outlandishness of dreaming was always quite amusing in his opinion, and he often found himself wishing he did it more.

This was different from his previous dreams though, it was not random clips of motion or abstract nonsense, and there was cohesion here. It felt like more of a memory than any dream that he had had before.

Rex was leading troops through an icy wooded glen… not his men though, and it wasn't any forest he could recall fighting in.

All around him was not the usual group of professional men in their blue-and-white armor. In their place was an ocean of men and a few women dressed in something that was best described as half-rags, half-plastoid, and they were carrying some of the shoddiest blasters he had ever laid his eyes on.

A strong wind blew through the trees, blasting snow into the air, and he almost imagined he could feel the icy air on his skin.

So Rex did what any good soldier did in his situation, he took a moment to assess himself and his surroundings. His armor felt proper; his pistols were at his side. The only thing missing was his helmet, and he suspected that it was in his pack and that he had removed it on some unknown purpose.

The column around him was not as dense or orderly as it could have been, men wandering in the general direction he suspected they were going, a number of AT-TE's thundering in a line down the path through the woods with troops scattered at their feet.

He had only stopped for a second but an older man, about forty and with old leather for skin walked up and fell in step beside him.

"Feeling alright commander?" He asked genially, rubbing a gloved hand though the ice in his mustache as the wind howled and shrieked overhead.

Captain Rex was many things, but he was certainly not a commander. Seeing as he was in a dream though, he felt no reason not to play along as he answered automatically. "This isn't anything to worry about Sherb," the words flowed out of his mouth without his control, "should been with us on Orto Plutonia, now that was cold." He heard himself chuckle grimly, as memories flashed across the viewscreen of his mind, as though viewed from the end of a long tunnel.

"I don't know how you guys do it, but my feet are freezing!" A nearby trooper, who looked only a little older than a cadet whined from nearby, while Sherb gave a sharp laugh.

"Could have always asked to reassigned with a unit that was going to be deployed in the south." The older man said, wiggling his frosted eyebrows with more than a small bit of amusement.

As the men debated deployments, more sounds began filtering into Rex's awareness. There was the pounding of the walkers, and the crunch of booted feet in snow, and over that was the insane howling of the snowstorm. Above it all was a curious sound, it rolled almost like thunder, but more regularity.

"Noticed the arty?" A voice from the nearby tree line, and a man in a battered set of Mandalorian armor vaulted over a snow bank, as group of similarly armored figures emerging from the woods to merge with his own troops. "Those Sithheads have been pounding our forward lines all day; word on the horn is that the forward advance is stopped dead."

"At least the airstrikes stopped." Another Mandalorian muttered under her breath as they started marching in line with Rex's troops.

"Rex, _Commander_ Rex…" He introduced himself to the Mandolorian, only a little awkwardly.

The other man's helmet tilted in deference. "Jik _sir_ , just Jik…" He introduced himself almost as awkwardly as Rex had.

"Not an officer?" He queried.

The other man shrugged helplessly. "All DOA."

"And what in the Seven Hell's is that supposed to mean?" The young man from before growled out, as something nearby roared.

Rex didn't need to look beneath his helmet to feel the long-suffering glance from his spiritual brother. "It means Dead On Arrival, kid. Their transports didn't make it through the fighter screen."

"Yeah, theirs and every other fifth ship that came down with us." The female mandalorian growled out.

Jik motioned something to the woman, who growled audibly, but made herself scarce.

"She lost someone?" Sherb said quietly, an eye rising in question.

"Her brother's transport ended up with a fighter on its ass, they think it went down somewhere past where the front-lines are now." Jik replied with a solemn nod.

Sherb swore, adjusting his grip on the old Verpine Shatter Rifle in his hands. "That's too bad." The grizzled old man said, spitting into the snow. "We don't have nearly enough vets to go around as it is."

Rex and Jik both nodded, an assessment made easier by one of the fresher troopers nearby tripping and face-planting into the snow.

Rex sighed as Sherb moved over to help the other man up. "Fell free to join my unit if you want." There was an odd buzzing sound from above them, and the Mandalorians tensed. "Force knows we're going to need all the help we can get."

Jik removed his helmet as the buzzing died down. "They sucker you with a bunch of greens?"

Rex nodded. "I've served most of the war with General Skywalker, so command figured I would be up for it."

The Mandalorian whistled. "I've heard a lot about the General…" The other man didn't need to say more, Rex knew that the people of Mandalore had never really gotten along with the Jedi.

"He's a good man, not exactly the typical Jedi of you catch my drift."

That caught the other man's attention. Jik's eyebrows raised and he smirked. "Really now, that sounds almost noteworthy?"

He felt his eyes roll. "Tell you what… we make it out of this in one piece, I'll take you out for drinks next time I'm off duty and I'll tell you about it… If you can keep your mouth shut."

Their banter was cut short by a loud crack, and someone behind them gave out a howl like a wounded animal.

They both dove for cover, as the men around him fired a few scattered shots in random directions or hit the deck.

"Sniper! Get to cover!" Rex shouted as loud as he could, teeth clenched in frustration at the sheer number of his men just standing around in the open looking like they had soiled their armor.

A flailing form fell from the main cannon of one of the AT-TE's nearby, landing with a sickening crack as it hit the ground, as the rest of the unit within shouting distance dove for cover.

"Did anyone see where that shot came from?" Sherb screamed out from where he was crouched nearby, his eyes straining to see through the blowing snow.

A chorus of no's rang out, and Jik swore. "That prop we heard earlier, that's where the sniper came from."

"I didn't see any aircraft." Rex probed the other man.

Jik replaced his helmet and continued. "They use speeder-like vehicles, little more than a metal box on skids with a giant propeller slapped the back; they slip through the lines while everyone's looking up at the sky and drop off snipers and commandos."

"And finding that sniper is going to be next to impossible by ear." Rex growled, longing for the days when the people shooting at him used blasters, with their brilliant bolts and familiar noises.

There was another crack, this time followed by the sound of shattering glass, and the lead walker slowed to a stop immediately. "Not good, not good. Everyone get away from the walkers." The female Mandalorian from earlier shouted out as she started crawling towards the tree line. "They're going to hit us with an airstrike!"

And Rex could hear the buzzing again, and something above them started screaming in the most bloodcurdling manner he had ever heard.

There was a flash of something metal in the sky, something huge and black dropped from beneath a pair of crooked wings.

Two dozen Mandalorians ignited their jet-packs at the same moment, launching themselves away from the egg-shaped metal pod that sat embedded in the ground.

There was an instance of silence then, as the entire unit stared at the speeder sized bomb that sat in the snow, and then a moment later there was a flash of brilliant light and Rex woke up with a start.

XXX

"Wakey, wakey…" Cody dodged the lazy punch at his helmeted head with a practiced ease, releasing his grip on Rex's shoulders in the same motion.

The room spun as Rex attempted to get out of his cot. "Ok, no more fried skrit before bed."

Cody snorted, and Rex's vision returned to him. Half-a-dozen clone commanders stood in his room.

There was a moment where he wondered if they had been messing with him, then he remembered that Gree and Fox were both too straight-laced for that. "As much fun as I am sure you were all having while watching me sleep, would you care to let me know _why_ you are in _my_ room?" He asked dryly and with a straight a face as possible.

"You were dreaming." Gree answered him, and by his tone it was clear that it wasn't a question.

Rex, slightly disturbed, went looking for his helmet, only to have Wolffe toss it to him. "How did you know that?" He asked incredulously, and more than a bit surprised.

Cody gave a sharp, humorless laugh. "I know it because we all had dreams."

Now that was surprising. "Everyone?"

"All of the upper ranks around here did at any rate. It varied, but it has everyone worried." Bly answered, as they left his room.

Rex didn't need to be told that he was only talking about clones. He was sure that they wouldn't have all come together like this if they thought it involved any of the Jedi or other officers.

Brothers kept to themselves for things like this.

He had always been fascinated by the naivety of the galaxy's population. That majority of the populace seemed to think that the clones were like droids made of meat.

They never questioned the possible repercussions of handing over control or oversight of essentially every single important task in the galaxy to an army with a singular identity and purpose.

That wasn't to say that the clones had any intention at all of betraying the Republic. But it did mean that when the time came, and when the war was finally over, that people of the galaxy were going to be providing them all with a nice fat severance package if they didn't want the services that allowed them to have their daily lives to grind to a halt.

Rex had figured that it was a fair trade, when Cody had explained it to him, and he figured that as long as no one had to get hurt, then it he would have no problem with it. And after all he was sure the Jedi would be there to support them, both Skywalker and Kenobi had already expressed displeasure with the treatment of the clones by non-military personnel.

It wasn't even something that would necessarily have to happen either. As Fox had often reminded them, to him the idea that the Republic would just up and abandon the men who had died by the billions for their sake was an insult almost unthinkable.

That aside, Fox had still agreed to begin the plans initial setup. There was no harm in making sure after all.

Cody was leading them into one of the bases storage rooms when Rex's comm started blinking. "General Skywalker…" He trailed off a bit awkwardly as they slid to a stop.

The man's hologram sprang up in his palm. The other man looked positively haunted "Rex…" his general paused at seeing the other commanders, "the situation just turned into an emergency, all of you need to get here now!" He almost shouted, looking more than a bit agitated.

All of them saluted, with a barrage of crisp "Sir, yes sir!" and began racing down the hallway to the stations conference room as Skywalker cut the transmission with a sharp nod.

"So what do you think it is this time?" Bly asked with quite a bit more sarcasm than was probably necessary.

Rex resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Considering what's happened so far… I would bet that Thorn got himself shot down."

Fox gave them all a sharp look as they continued running. "Thorn is a professional! He would never place his command under unnecessary risk!" He shot back, a little heatedly.

"Yeah, not willingly maybe… but what if he was under orders?" Gree piped in as they rushed down a hallway, nearly stampeding a service droid. "There are plenty of senators who are angry and anxious, and that's never a condition that leads to good choices. I would bet my blaster that someone ordered him to do something stupid." Gree finished as Wolffe slammed the console to conference room doors.

Nearly a hundred faces turned to meet them as they raced into the room. Rex figured it was to their credit that not a single one of the men at his side flinched or slowed down. Instead they slid to a stop in front of the table that the Jedi generals and Palpatine sat at. "Sir's!" They all saluted in a single crisp motion.

Kenobi was the first of them to greet them. "Good to see you men…" He said, with barely hid displeasure on his face, "it seems Thorn's force has run into, shall we say... a snag."

 **3/15/95, Berlin – Orchard 200XC, Somewhere near Munich**

Orange Pekoe gave another look at the child she had been ordered to escort.

Not that the girl was actually a child, Pekoe was a good enough Psycher to tell that that the girl was many times older than she appeared to be.

Not that she needed to be a Psycher to tell that Lena Einstein was not a child; her eyes alone were enough for that. They gleamed with the unnatural golden light of an Immortal, and held a kind of cruel amusement that few actual children she had ever encountered had possessed.

But Pekoe was a guard, and she took her job very seriously. It was one of the reasons that Darjeeling drove her up the wall, and while she would have never asked for another assignment, the woman's habits and blasé attitude did get on her nerve; say nothing of her companion in responsibility.

Speaking of Assam, the other teen had just finished one of her terrible jokes as they walked a boring path between the trees of an agricultural orchard, and she was getting ready to tell her friend to kindly fuck off.

It had been like this ever since they had finished capturing that ship. Pekoe had returned to her lines and been greeted by Darjeeling, who had been smiling in a manner that Pekoe had known would not bring good news.

Her general had proceeded to inform her that they were going to Germany, along with all of the prisoners she had just finished capturing, and Pekoe's day had just gone down the toilet from there.

Culminating with tonight, when Darjeeling had ordered her and Assam to escort the diminutive German scientist on a walk. Even the tone the woman had used carried with it an aura of providence that had made Pekoe's spine crawl.

The girl finished chuckling politely at Assam's awful joke and spoke to her. "Don't worry Pekoe, I have talked to Darjeeling and she has assured me that you two are the best in the business, so relax a little. I have every confidence that you two will be able to keep me safe through the trials ahead."

That was certainly not something Pekoe found comforting. It was a tone almost identical to the one Darjeeling had used earlier that night, the kind that carried a weight of prophecy.

They both knew something that they were not sharing and it both hurt and frustrated Pekoe to know that she was not being trusted.

Lena seemed to sense her emotions. She put a child-sized hand over Pekoe's new VG1-5, and the German weapon felt heavier in her hands. "Fear not, for tonight we have a mission of utmost importance!" She said, grinning brightly with determination glimmering in her golden eyes.

"Would you tell us then, what's going on?" She tried her best to keep the sheer frustration out of her voice, but it wasn't completely successful.

The girl just continued to smile at her in that terrifyingly amused manner. Then suddenly there was a massive and resounding crack, the kind so loud and deep that you felt in your bones, swiftly followed by several others, that thundered from the city that they had just left.

Pekoe resisted the urge to tackle the girl to the ground as the sky high above them lit up. Assam whoever, seemed to be caught in shock. "Those were…" The taller blonde trailed off, her voice a hushed whisper.

The Einstein finished her sentience for her. "Munich's super-heavy defensive artillery." She nodded sagely and Pekoe swore she could hear an odd, almost vibrating sound. "The invasion of Earth has begun."

That was it! Pekoe almost wanted to throttle someone, or drink all of her commanders tea while the older woman wasn't looking. "This is it! What you have been hiding from us, from everyone!" She growled out at a harsh whisper.

The child nodded, as that obnoxious droning grew louder. "Yes, a plan a thousand years in the making is about to come to fruition." Her face grew brighter as she glanced up casually into the dark sky. "And our true task is about to begin."

Suddenly it all made sense, why she had been tasked by Darjeeling to lead the infantry against the landed ship, why they had been taken to Germany, and now why they had been assigned to guard a little girl that wanted to go for a walk into the middle of nowhere.

Pekoe was going to flay the next Pre-Cog she saw alive.

She threw the gun down, letting the glimmering razors in her gloves extended to circle them. Pekoe wanted to turn the murderous threads on the German who was grinning up at the sky so calmly, but resisted the urge through years of training and generations of inbred instincts. "You're to be the ambassador!" It was as accusatory as she felt comfortable with.

"Yep!" Lena replied simply. "Now put those toys away Pekoe, we'll not be needing them now."

Something materialized in the sky above them, long and skeletal, a metal spear that floated swiftly down to their position, as Pekoe followed her orders heedless of her own will.

Assam opened fire with her VG1-5, bullets from the borrowed German weapon sparking futilely off the metal hide of the craft.

"Cease fire, Major," Lena said with more than a little bit of an amused inflection in her tone, "this is our ride off planet."

Assam to her credit, not that Pekoe was ever going to give her any, simply gawked at the little girl as the newly visible craft swooped lower and planted itself on the path before them. It's landing gear digging into the grassy pathway between the trees.

A loading ramp slammed down and a half-dozen men in black armor poured out from the ship.

Pekoe didn't need to be told that these were not from the same shoddy stuff that had made up the majority of the opponents in her last alien encounter. These men were clearly well trained and experienced, with armor that covered their whole bodies and long rifles that didn't leave them for an instant as the group moved to surround Pekoe and her companions.

After they were surrounded a single figure, in a different sort of armor, with a white and red color-scheme stepped out from the ramp, and made a hands-up motion with his rifle.

Then the Einstein girl did something that no one seemed to expect. She strode several steps forward, as a massive explosion in the night sky illuminated the grove, gave everyone a shit-eating grin, then spoke in a language that neither Pekoe nor Assam recognized, but made the soldiers that had surrounded them tense visibly. **_"Salutations good Captain Ordo, I am Chief-Professor Lena Einstein… And if it pleases you Captain, may I ask what brings you and your fine compatriots to Deutschland on this most glorious evening?"_**

 **Aldeberan 3 High Orbit - Venator-class Star Destroyer, RNS** ** _Unwavering_**

Thorn was not a happy trooper.

No, despite receiving today's assignment from the chancellor himself, Thorn was anything but pleased by his current mission outline.

For an entire task-force to hard burn into the atmosphere of a planet was an almost disproportionate show of force, no matter what the planet that had chosen to be so insubordinate had done.

It was also extremely unsound tactically speaking, as it would make their ships great targets for any anti-orbital weapons the world in question might have.

"Alright men!" He shouted as his fleet, of five Venator-class Star Destroyers, approached their entry burn point. "I want all power to the ventral shield generators as we burn in."

The men on their consoles shouted affirmations and the bluish tint on the bridges transparasteel windows faded almost completely.

One of the men rose up from the control pit. "The fleet is on course, and our current trajectory will have us landing a good distance from the city Amidala's ship went down in."

Thorn grit his teeth, as his orders waged war with his common sense as a soldier. His experience won out as the flames started licking at the windows "Alright, enough of this nonsense, I want a full scan of the planet's surface done immediately."

And his men, ever loyal and professional, jumped at the chance to do something sensible, or at least they would have, if half the bridges klaxons hadn't started screaming at them.

This was exactly what Thorn had been worrying about. "Situation!" He demanded.

"Sir we've just detected several high-mass high-density objects approaching the fleet at several times the speed of-" Thorn presumed that the trooper would have finished his sentence with the word 'sound', if not for the floor of the ship suddenly rising up to meet them accompanied by the sound of a cataclysmic blast and the deafening noise of metal tearing.

When his head stopped ringing from the impact, Thorn stood. "What… what in the Nine Corellian Hells was that!" He asked, coughing slightly and making a note of the fact that the fact that the emergency lights had come on.

One of his troopers, Scrapper if he remembered correctly, stood up shakily from where he had landed after being thrown from his console. "We were hit by something big, heavy, and very fast, most likely a light anti-orbital weapon of some sort."

"Light!" The words seemed like insanity, their ship had jumped beneath their feet.

The man's helmet head nodded. "The shell that hit the _Dream of Naboo was heavier, it_ managed to punch straight into the reactor, which was the explosion we heard."

And sure enough, outside the bridge he could see the bridge section of a Venator flipping end over end as it burned up in the atmosphere.

That certainly wasn't good news. "Damage report!" Thorn asked as their ship started listing heavily to the left. "What's going on!"

One of the technicians pulled himself up onto his console and started shouting at them. "We've taken a direct hit to the bottom of the ship that essentially blew the lower three decks off, the reactor is nearly breached and we just lost control of the stabilizers."

Thorn was a veteran, which was why he had been chosen for the command of this mission. But as the ship continued listing, he thought to himself that had never been in a situation quite like this.

So he did what he had been born to do. "Alright, listen up troopers!" He shouted into his helmet's comm as he slapped the button for the fleet-wide channel." We're about to have a bumpy landing and we're expecting all kinds hostiles, so all hands brace for impact!"

 **3/15/95, Berlin – Block C5, Strategic Air-Command Center A, Inside the Reichstag**

It was official, Minna hated everyone.

First she had been forced to deal with an SS spook that had for all intents and purposes, taken over her command so that he could give a bunch of orders that made no sense. Then he had fucked off to wherever the SS went after they had made someone's day even more of a mess than normal.

And now the radar operators were literally screaming at her and she had no idea what to do, as apparently the ENTIRE command section of Berlin, sans herself, had decided to just up and disappear.

"So let me get this straight…" Minna literally hissed into the receiver. "You cocksuckers managed to lose track of the FÜHRER!" She roared the title into the little phone.

Minna could almost feel the other man trembling through the phone line, as he realized the true severity of his situation. "I-I am so-sorry Frau Wilcke, but that seems to be the case."

There was a number of pressing things she needed to be doing right now, but this was just impossibly ridiculous. That the bodyguards of the most important man in the ENTIRE Axis Alliance could just up and lose him, was so stupid it just had to strain belief.

She could feel the wood of the desk cracking under her hands and her aids stopped jabbering at her and stared at the newly created splinters. "Then as the highest ranking officer left in GERMANY at the moment, because apparently everyone else fucked off for the night, I can tell you that you have THIRTY MINUTES to find him or I will personally oversee your execution! Do I make myself clear Major!" She roared again into the receiver.

There was a gasp on the other side of the line, followed by a clattering sound that told her that the old SS windbag had passed out or dropped the phone in his hurry to go looking for Max. Either way, her tongue lashing had created the desired effect.

Minna slammed the phone down, and swirled around, glaring at the assembled aids and desk-jockeys that made up her current command. "As of five minutes ago, five almost MILE LONG objects appeared on radar and began reentry burns into German airspace." She waved her free hand at the assembled troops, the other closing around the MP-40 she kept under her desk for emergencies as eyes widened all around. "So someone call the fucking Dora's and tell those lazy idiots to do their FUCKING JOBS!" She roared at them, watching with no small amount of pleasure as those assembled leapt into action. "And scramble all available troops, and everything that'll fly. As far as I am concerned this is a direct invasion of the Reich and it is about FUCKING time we acted like it!"

"Sir!" Erica and Gertrude, bless their hearts snapped to attention as they rounded the corner into the command center, Erica even had pants on for once.

The hatred slipped out of her and she could feel her shoulders loosening. "Trude, Erica, thank god you're here. Did you find anyone?" She asked in a much calmer tone.

Trude, a severe look on her face, reached around the corner and yanked out a disheveled navy officer who looked ready to piss his pants at the site of her MP-40.

"So Schultz…" Minna asked the young boy, using part of his line name instead of his designation. "Where exactly is Bismark?"

Max, to his credit, made a passable attempt to look less terrified. Unfortunately, the Dora's took that moment to fire, and the sound of lung-collapsing shock-wave the giant guns made when firing reached all the way down to her command post.

He yelped like a struck puppy, and made a dive for her desk, but Trude's hand caught his belt and the unnaturally strong woman reeled him back. "I promise I have no idea Kommandant Wilcke, last I heard she was going to some fancy get-together in the Grand Auditorium." The panicking boy whined at her.

Erica chuckled. "Pride of the navy right here…" The blonde trailed off as her companion gave her a stern glare.

"Ma'am, the Dora's have confirmed that the objects have been shot down. Three are listing heavily off course and the other two have broken apart." Heidemarie shouted over the din of panicked ensigns from her console.

"We'll they're not at the Auditorium now, so where would they be?' Minna asked herself, before face-palming. "Of course there out drinking, how stupid of me…"

Gertrude raised an eyebrow. "Should we call the mess halls?"

But Minna was already out the doors. "No time, and there is only one bar within stumbling distance anyways. Schnaufer, you're in charge until I get back." She shouted as she stormed into the hallway, ignoring the white-haired girl's startled yelp at being put in charge of the entirety of Berlin's defenses.

"Trude, Erica, with me. We're going to sort this mess out right now."

 **3/15/95, Berlin – Block O2** **5** **, Officers Quarters, beneath the Reichstag**

Miho had been drinking, that was for sure. Her head throbbed as she lay and stared at the ceiling.

The mess was not one for officers; those were usually more posh and quite a bit smaller. This was one of the larger mess halls, of the sort where an off duty platoon might stop for a drink after a long day of guarding Anti-Aircraft guns. But the officers tending the bar didn't exactly have the authority to turn away several thousand Commaders, Generals and the Führer himself.

It was also a complete disaster area, with smashed tables and chairs everywhere, the casualties of a bar brawl that she barely remembered winning.

Her uniform was damp, and smelled strongly of alcohol, she sat up slowly, felling her clothes stick to the floor with what she hoped was beer. "Maho? Erwin?" It was a plea she really didn't think was going to be answered. Indeed, none of the well-dressed bodies that littered the floor even stirred.

An instant later a field of white obscured her vision, and strong hands clasped her arm and shoulder, hauling her to her feet as the world swirled. "We'll that went better than I expected… all things considered."

The voice was at once unfamiliar, yet unmistakably significant, like she should know who it belonged to.

Miho raised her head, and if she hadn't still been intoxicated she probably would have screamed. As it was, she merely gave a pained moaned as Albert Einstein stared down at her with a look that was between pity and amusement.

"I do hope you worked that out of your system. I don't think the head of the SS can handle another one of those anytime soon." What exactly the man was talking about was lost on her, and she was rapidly distracted by the sudden need to vomit all over his shiny shoes.

Einstein merely took a step back, keeping a hand on her shoulder to keep her steady and taking another puff from his cigar. "And I hope we can get this all back into order soon though, are guests are due to arrive any moment now." He checked his watch

Like it was prophesied, the lights of the mess went out and klaxons stared wailing all around her. The field of not dead bodies stared to moan, then hundreds of officers started to rise all around them.

Something was happening, that was obvious. Then she remembered what the man had told them about the day before, of the _Galactic Republic_ , and how it was going to make a bid for their world.

"Are we under attack?" She asked the man who, for her entire life she had been told was a traitor to Germany, to his people.

Einstein just nodded. "This would likely be the forces of the Re-" He was cut off as the door to the mess hall was slammed open and Minna-Dietlinde Wilcke stormed in, a nervous looking Barkhorn and Hartmann trailing closely behind her.

The redhead stopped, surveying the slowly rising field of hung-over officers and the destruction that had been laid on the mess hall and just gaped at it all.

"We're being invaded, just thought you should know…" She said, and then the she passed out cold.

* * *

And that is chapter-6.

Not as long as I would have liked, but I wanted to get something out to you guys sooner than later and figured that this would be a good place to stop.

So I hope you enjoyed it, and are ready for me to get back into my semi-regular schedule shortly.

Anyways, thanks again to anyone who faved or reviewed.


	7. Chapter 7

So the next chapter is finally here. Not quite as soon as I had hoped, but it's the thought that counts right?

Anyways, thanks for the reviews and views guys. PS: I literally just realized that when I was signed in I could reply to reviews, so if you've left one I will get to replying to them soon, and I apologize that it took so long.

 **Hearts of Iron: Chapter VII - Palpatine wants to get off this ride...**

* * *

 **Date: 3/15/95, Location: Outskirts of Berlin - SS Assembly Area 445**

Erika glared at the annoyed looking trio of storm-troopers, who for some inexplicable reason had decided that her unit's assembly grounds were off limits to her unit.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but all of the above-ground access points in this sector have been restricted." The youngest of the trio answered, moving in such a way as to bring the SS crest on his lapels into the dim light of the access tunnel.

None of her men were buying the bullshit. One of her Captains put his hands on his hips. "So let me get this straight…" The unshaven teen growled. "We can't access OUR parade grounds because they're off limits, even though we have orders from a GENERAL, to assemble there immediately." He flipped his cap off and ran a hand through his hair in disgust. "And you can't tell us who gave the order to shut down ALL of the access points, because that's classified?"

The older of the trio, a gaunt and graying man just shrugged carelessly and sneered at them. "Orders are orders."

That sent a pulse of frustration through Erika's mind. She had used that same excuse often enough to know it was almost certainly bullshit. "So…" She hissed at the man, who blinked and took a step back at her tone. Well aware that despite being older than her, he didn't actually outrank her. "Can you at least tell us why the access points are shut down?" She left the part about him being a useless shit-stain unsaid, but the tone was all there.

The storm-trooper just scratched his Stahlhelm nervously. "Well I think it had something to do wit-" Whatever he had been about to say was cut off by a rapid series of thundering cracks, as loud as any explosion she had ever heard, and deep enough to tell her that they were from far away.

Several seconds later, when everyone had finished pulling themselves away from the sides of the tunnel where they had dove for cover, the emergency lights clicked on for the second time that day. And the sound of a thousand klaxons mixed with the banshee wailing of what seemed like every air-raid siren in the entire city.

That was the last straw in Erika's mind. "Enough of this!" She spun around and started barking orders. "Grubber, Kowalski, get your asses back to the motor pool and get the tanks up here now! Tomoko, alert the rest of the Company and find General Maho and tell her that we are moving to engage whatever's out there."

"Look Untersturmführer, we can't let you-" It was as far as she let the gaunt leader of the trio get before she grabbed his shirt, funneling extra strength from her emotions as slammed him back into the steel blast-door hard enough to hear bones crack in protest.

He groaned in pain but didn't stand back up.

That was perfectly fine with her. After the day she had been having so far, it was refreshing to be able to let go a little, to have something to funnel some of the anger and humiliation from earlier. The fifty or so clicks she heard behind her only added to her confidence as the rest of her platoon flicked their safeties off, she didn't need to turn to know that the other two SS troopers were currently looking down the barrel of every small-arm in her unit.

The look on their faces was balm to her soul, she smiled. "Now gentlemen, will you do the polite thing and open the door for a lady, or will I have to do it myself." It was as thinly veiled a threat as she had ever made, even drooled in honey as it was, and they all knew it.

That knowledge certainly didn't stop the two remaining SS guards from scrambling to get the door open for her though.

Once outside, Erika stood in center of the well-trimmed grass and inhaled the crisp air. Much of the city's waste heat was funneled out by downdraft shafts that ran the height of the cities massive towers, that kept the surrounding regions temperate even during winter, but it was still a chilly night out.

But it wasn't dark out. There was fire in the sky tonight, massive blooms of purple and orange, where the massive shells from the city defense cannons had burst over Berlin.

And something was falling in their direction… something huge, glowing with fire and trailing smoke.

And it was coming in fast.

"Back into the tunnel…" She whispered underneath her breath, before an explosion across the flaming hulk snapped her back into reality. "FUCK HELL! EVERYONE BACK! GET THAT BLAST DOOR CLOSED!" She roared at her shocked subordinates as urgency suddenly set in.

Her screaming shocked them so much that one of her troopers even dropped his MP-40… he didn't go back to pick it up as they scrambled back past the rapidly closing vault door.

No one waited to hear the sound that signified the massive steel door's tumblers closing all the way, instead it was a full sprint down the tunnel and away from the apocalyptic landing that was heading towards them at de-orbital velocity.

'DEEPER'… was the only thing in her mind as they rushed down into the bowls of the earth. 'WE NEED TO GET DEEPER!'

They weren't halfway back down the tunnel when the ground jumped up to meet her with a cataclysmic noise, snapping her knees almost to her chin, then it dropped back out beneath them and she fumbled as she flew through the air, slamming hard into concrete as she went tumbling foreword.

Thankfully, her uniform provided the resistance she needed to slow to what was mostly a stop after only a few bounces against the concrete, though that didn't stop her from being made to flop helplessly as the blackened world around her heaved in distress.

When the tunnel stopped trembling in shock, she slowly raised her head and coughed into the dust and smoke, trying to peer around with the light of the single working lamp that was still flickering uncertainly further down the tunnel. "Shit… is everyone alright?"

A chorus of half-snarled "Ja's" was her reply as she pulled herself up off the ground alongside her unit.

Now her anger was back and Erika grinned at it, because this time she wasn't the only one. Dozens of glowing red irises illuminated the otherwise blackened tunnel, she could feel the psychic rage tingling on her skin.

That feeling that made her teeth sharpen…

She didn't need to look to know that the assembly grounds, and probably everything around them, had been leveled. Didn't need to look to know that whoever these assholes were, they had absolutely obliterated the sculpted gardens that she and everyone in her unit had been using for their parade grounds since they were still SS initiates.

Oh, there was anger alright, anger and hatred and righteous fury.

That last emotion was a relatively new one… usually she was on the giving end. Having her stuff destroyed left a foul taste in Erika's mouth. Like the aftertaste of bile or some sort of slimy rot.

She spat as one of the youngest members of her battalion, a boy everyone called Heinrich glanced up at her. He was a green who had come on to replace a man she had lost to an infiltrator nearly three months ago. He stood uncertainly, like a newborn taking their first steps, and the ground trembled again slightly.

But his pupils flickered with rage that he didn't yet know how to harness, and she could work with that. "What are we going to do Kommandant?" He asked at a half whisper, inching towards the tunnels walls, wary of a collapse.

Her heart swooned with amusement and she couldn't help the grin that spread as the sounds of frantic jackboots and the enraged roars and rattles of tanks echoed down the tunnel. "The same thing we always do Heinrich." She said, almost breathlessly. "We're going to water Berlin's gardens with their blood."

 **Elsewhere nearby…**

"Alright, what are we working with?" Thorn growled out the question in a harsher tone than he had meant to.

He wasn't mad with the major, but it had been a really trying day so far, and it certainly didn't look like it was going to get better anytime soon.

The major shrugged, ignoring the troopers bustling around the ruined bridge section, and flicked off his helmet commlink to answer him. "In short, not well. Roughly 2,000 of the men on board are still in fighting shape."

Thorn grimaced beneath his helmet. "Less than that if we tend to the wounded."

The other trooper nodded, sparing a wary glance at the darkened landscape out the shattered viewport. "Engineering reports that some of the speeders and AT-RT's are salvageable, but the hanger doors are jammed and most of the heavier walkers and aircraft broke free of their moorings, either when we were hit or when we crashed."

"And those are scrap…" He didn't bother to ask for confirmation; the landing had nearly tossed him clear of the bridges newly broken windows. The stuff in the hangers and cargo bays would have been tossed around like a nuna in a shredder.

"What about the other ships?" Thorn asked.

The major just shrugged again. "The _Reverence_ and the _Dream of Naboo_ both exploded in the upper atmosphere and are assumed to be lost with all hands. The rest of the fleet is scattered around the region, the furthest from our position being the _Undauntible_ , which was shot wildly off course and report their current position at several hundred kilometers away."

That was bad, that was almost unbelievably bad, for nearly than a third of a force to be obliterated or cut-off so severely was almost unheard of, but Thorn steeled himself and asked what he really didn't want to know anyways. "That just leaves us and the _Symphony_ … have they reported in?"

"They're about ten miles from here." The major nodded in affirmation. "Shrike says that they have three thousand men in fighting condition. He also confirmed that some of their heavier walkers survived hit they took, apparently it was more of a glancing blow against their engine section." The other trooper's hand shot up to his helmet. "Also, the captain reports that the forces he sent to scout the area around his crash site are reporting hostile contacts and have been taking casualties."

"Sith…" Thorn swore under his breath. "Have we been able to contact Republic High-Command?"

One of the aids nearby snapped to attention. "Our long-range communication antennas were destroyed by the landing but Senator Chuchi and Major Ozzel are still within range of our short-range comms, and they have agreed to patch us through to command."

The aid tapped on one of the few consoles that was still glowing, and it gave a hissing noise, and then an extremely blurry hologram flashed to life. A few seconds of fiddling and a good solid whack by a technician at the back of the console, and the image resolved into something more than a fuzzy blob.

"Commander Thorn?" General Kenobi asked, a rather alarmed looking board of figures sitting in various places behind him straining to catch what was happening.

Thorn snapped to attention, banishing all useless emotions he felt about the situation at the moment to the back of his mind. "General Kenobi." He clipped out, sliding into a familiar salute.

The general looked relieved to see him, bags beneath the other man's eyes betraying the strain the situation must be putting on him. "Thank the Force…" Kenobi groaned out in relief, looking like he had to physically restrain himself from sagging. "I take it the situation has become less than ideal?"

Thorn was suddenly pleased he had decided to keep his helmet on. The senators in the room seemed to be in varying states of shock and he had no illusions that any reaction other than crisp professionalism would only make the situation worse.

"Have you managed to contact Padme?" Skywalker cut in, looking more stressed than Thorn had ever seen the other man.

"I-" he stopped himself for a moment, carefully contemplating his response, mindful that there were plenty of senators and other various politicians visible through the hologram.

But in the end, Thorn knew that they needed honesty right now, maybe more than anything. "Unfortunately that seems like that will no longer be possible General."

III

 **Greater War Room 21XV, Coruscant - The Galactic Republic**

The situation was getting out of hand… far out of hand.

And this was not part of his scenario.

Palpatine grimaced, trying to keep his look reassuring despite how disgusting it made him feel on in the inside. Now was not the time for anything but his best performance. Right now anything but his best could easily lead to disaster.

Senator Amidala was a crucial piece of the puzzle that was Anakin Skywalker, without her his entire plan would have to be though out again, and with the Clone Wars already well under way that wasn't really an option anymore.

Padme Amidala was currently lost on a planet that had just proven its capacity to project its sovereignty against even a larger than normal task-force.

"Well…" He sighed, folding his hands and gazing across the room at all of the other people in the room. Their faces were covered with a wide range of emotions, few of them conductive to solving the situation they had accidentally gotten themselves into. "It seems that we have terribly misjudged both the aptness of the inhabitance and their apparent desires."

"I will gladly lead a rescue fleet personally Chancellor!" Skywalker nearly shouted, looking like he was moments away from sprinting from the room in sheer impatience anyways.

Kenobi placed his fifth tea in the last hour down before Sidious could even answer the young Jedi. "And accomplish what exactly?" He rebuked his padawan lightly. Waving his hand at the system hologram on the table, as it replayed the information they had managed to gather so far. "They have already proven that they are more than capable of shooting down ships as big as cruisers. Who knows what other surprises they might be holding back?" He sighed.

"Two different varieties of anti-orbital weaponry have already been showcased, and even most Separatist fortress-worlds only typically have one or two installations of that type, and you already reported your fleet was taking fire from dozens of such weapons at once. Over different sections of the continent no less." Mundi interjected quietly, nodding the to the hologram of the trooper in question.

Thorn, whose hologram had only reappeared moments ago to give bad news and ask for orders, nodded gravely in confirmation. "Our ships never stood a chance against that much firepower General, we were caught completely flatfooted."

"A trap this was!" Yoda answered, the aged Jedi stating the obvious from his hoverchair, waving his cane to emphasize his point.

"But why do this?" Chuchi's hologram pleaded across the void of space, distraught at the chaos that seemed to be well on its way. "We didn't even know this system existed until recently." The blue woman cried. She was one of the few people in the meeting who Palpatine thought looked more stressed than Anakin, if that was even possible. "What possible reason for these actions could there be?"

He stood grimly, but with as much authority as he could project as the room burst into several heated debates. Reading himself to try and calm the assembly before it got out of control. Or at least he would have if a thunderous banging from the door hadn't cut him off before he could start, though the shock of the sudden noise did calm the room.

"Palpatine, you lying bastard!" An stern voice growled. "Open this blasted door or I'm going to break it down!" The next unwanted problem he was going to be forced to deal with today roared through the doors buzzer, making people scramble all across the room.

He waved the purple armored guard at the door permission to open it. "Good morning Skirata." He answered the man calmly. "I assume you are here to inquire about the location of Null-11?"

The door slid open with a hiss and a pair of helmetless Madalorians stormed in, flanked by the remaining Null-ARC troopers and a full squad of clone commandos. "Your men promised me that I would be the one to command the Nulls." The grizzled old soldier snarled at him from across the room. "Where is my son?" He demanded, pounding his fist against the nearest table and making the senator there squawk in fear.

He hid his smirk in a grandfatherly smile. "Convenient timing as expected, I was actually just about to get to that." He slid his hand to the console that sat on the desk in front of him. "Captain Ordo." He addressed the trooper by his name, carefully gauging the reactions of the newest persons to burst into the meeting. "A status update would be quite appreciated."

That shut everyone up, and a little blue figure appeared on the table before him, the armored outline of the man in question standing behind two special-ops troopers sitting at the control of a ship.

The Null removed his helmet as Kal and his entourage pushed their way up towards his desk. "We've taken three captives and we were preparing to leave now sir…" The ARC trailed off, looking quite uncertain about something. "Chancellor, I feel a pressing need to warn you that our transmissions have almost certainly been compromised."

"Then switch to another channel." Mace grumbled from his seat, more than a little irritable at the mess they had found themselves in.

There was a long pause, and both of the Special-Ops troopers removed their helmets as well. They looked visibly disturbed, almost sick. "You misunderstand us General." One of the troopers said, his hands clenching the controls of the Stealth ship tightly. "The natives we captured, they were waiting for us sir… one of them greeted Captain Ordo in Basic and by his name."

The troopers had to be joking, Palpatine thought to himself. What the men had said simply couldn't possibly be true. But the troopers intent was clear in his voice, and even though he was vanished from the force by being inside the accursed system, Palpatine was still as good at reading people as it got.

And the men were not lying….

That was a problem… That was something that shouldn't have been even remotely possible. It created far too many disturbing questions to be accepted as true. Sidious did not have the time or the patience to deal with the consequences of statements like that right now.

To be honest, the implications made him want to run screaming back to his chambers and eviscerate something… maybe stew in his hatred for the Jedi over one of his ancient Sith holocrons.

But he had a plan to salvage and that came first. Unfortunately if the room had been loud before it was now nearly deafening, people were actually shouting at each other across the large room.

"Silence!" Mas Amedda stood and roared over the din, his booming voice silencing the room in a swift instant.

Palpatine nodded in geunine appreciation, feeling the beginnings of a headache already. "Thank you Mas, Captain Ordo if you would please explain." He waved to the hologram, mindful that everyone was now giving them their undivided attention.

The trooper opened his mouth to answer and stiffened. "Hold on one minute." The Null glanced at the two troopers manning the controls, and then he flicked the panel behind him. "Turn the cloaking device on and take off, I want to get off this rock before there are any more surprises."

He could hear the ships engines rumble to life through the holo, and the Null readjusted his stance as took off. It was then that the door to the cockpit slid open, and immediately a tiny figure spilled through the door. "Hey! Oh, what's that!"

Everyone in the room blinked, he could feel their shock ripple through the force. A child, a small girl in what appeared to be a lab coat rushed up towards the front of the cockpit.

"Spark, why isn't she restrained." Ordo shouted past the door.

"I honestly don't know sir!" A rather alarmed sounding Spec-Ops trooper answered as he chased the girl through the doorway. "We put her in binders earlier, didn't we?"

The child stopped at that, and dodging a swipe from Spark, she reached swiftly into her white coat and pulled out a pair of activated binders. "You mean these silly things?" She asked the room, maybe not seeing the smallish hologram on the dashboard.

It was absolutely unbelievable, Palpatine thought to himself. Her basic was clipped and stilted, and her accent was thick and rather guttural. It was almost like she had taught herself the language rather than picking it up naturally.

But it was there, and it was even understandable.

A child from a planet so deep in the Unknown Regions that no one had even known there was a system there to have a planet knew Basic…

And like that, his headache just kept getting worse.

"Excuse me little one." Kenobi cut them all off swiftly, before anyone else could interject, throwing a sharp look at the holographic troopers who were poised to re-restrain her. "If I may ask, and I believe it is in the direct interests of everyone here…" This time the stern look was directed at everyone around him in the conference room. "To ask how exactly you learned the language you're currently using?"

The little blonde stopped short as Spark stopped chasing her around the cockpit, evidently not having seen the holo before that moment. Her eyes widened and a brilliant look bloomed on her face. "Oh, wow! I've never seen one of those working before!"

"Working…" That term raised a number of questions that probably had no end of disturbing implications, but he filed that little bit of information away for later debate, and opted to let Kenobi continue his little questionnaire.

Besides, seeing the self-righteous Jedi so off kilter was always an enjoyable experience, and he needed that balm right now. There was simply too much at stake for any missteps on his part, and besides that the sight of the normally calm and collected Jedi being shocked really was amusing.

"Um…" Obi-Wan trailed off intelligently as the child rushed to the front of the cockpit and began trying to pry the console off with a little metal rod.

"SITH!" One of the pilots swore in reaction, swiping the thin tool the girl had pulled from her coat. "Don't take stuff apart while it's running!"

"WAAG!" The girl whined, waving the arms of her oversized lab coat in a twirling motion and reaching up to grab at him. "It's mine, give it back!"

Kenobi, ever the diplomat, chose that moment to inhale deeply and cut back in. "About Basic Ms…"

The girl brightened instantly, her stolen tool seemingly forgotten. "I'm Lena Einstein, but everyone just calls me the Professor! And I know _Basic_ because you guys are always so loud!"

"Loud?" Bail said questioningly from the corner of the room he had been sandwiched into.

Lena's eyes widened slightly as they darted back to the hologram, this time she seemed to actually see that it was an entire room of people she was talking to. "Yeah, whenever we pointed telescopes and receivers deeper into the _Milky Way_ we couldn't get anything else but you guys jabbering on at all hours of the night!" She gave them an adorably disapproving look, her arms crossed and everything. "Don't you know there's a war on!"

Palpatine wasn't sure exactly how anyone was supposed to respond to that statement either, or if she was referring to some conflict on her planet or to the Clone Wars. So again he opted to stay quiet, simply letting them continue their little back and forth, and instead merely shot Kenobi an approving glance for getting the conversation this far.

"There's a war on?" The Jedi answered cautiously, looking like he was between curiosity and annoyance as Anakin stood up to interrupt for the third time in as many minutes.

"Yeah, for like the past thousand years…" Lena said distractedly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

So it was some sort of personal war that they had stumbled into, not a people wary of the devastation wrought by the Clone Wars.

Sidious figured internally that would go a long way to explaining the native's reactions to their arrival, but again the answer only created more questions. There were wars all across the galaxy, even before the outbreak of the Clone Wars itself. The Republic, hardly as stable as it usually appeared from the outside, had always been filled with conflicts of various sizes and scales.

But for a world to have been at war for a thousand years was simply unheard of. Most planets either resolved their conflicts or blasted themselves back to the Stone Age long before they reached that point.

That there was anyone left for his little backup plan to even find, none the less that they still had the capacity to shoot down cruisers, was nothing short of a miracle.

"Your planet has been at war for a thousand years?" This time it was Chuchi's holo who cried out, sounding absolutely appalled at the information.

"Yep!" There was no fear or horror in the child's voice, none of the weariness that someone rescued from a war-zone usually exhibited. In fact she looked proud, like Chuchi was her mother and she had just told her about how she had gotten a top grade on some school test. "It's the best!"

No one really seemed to have anything to say to that… not that he could blame them. After all, what exactly could you say to a statement like that?

But now that he looked at the girl again, the oversized lab coat she was wearing had a distinctly military look to it. It was sharply creased, with jagged S-shaped crests on the lapels, highlighted with a sprinkling of gold trim.

"Ok…" Kenobi trailed off, trying to bring the conversation back into proper focus. "So, would you be willing to tell us how to get our friends back?" He asked, reaching past his own confusion and exhaustion to try and bring a fatherly smile to his bearded face.

"Friends?" Lena asked back, looking confused. Suddenly her eyebrow raised and she turned back around, looking down towards the rear of the ship. "Munich sees us Ordo."

"Who is Munic-" Was as far as the ARC trooper got before the ships warning systems started screaming at them.

"We've detected several objects accelerating towards us from the city, sir!" One of the piloting soldiers shouted and the troopers lurched as the pilot punched the accelerator.

It would have been funny, really. The whole thing should have been wonderfully hilarious really, if only the situation hadn't been so important, Palpatine thought to himself with a frown as several aides brought everyone in the conference room more drinks. The looks on the trooper's faces were a comical mixture of confusion and shock. "Why isn't the ship cloaked!" Ordo shouted.

"We _are_ still cloaked!" The trooper replied, sounding a good bit less calm than he had only moments ago.

"Then how in the Hells are they tracking us!" Ordo growled, visibly composing himself. He turned, looking down at Lena with a sternly raised eyebrow. "You know, don't you?"

Their blonde captive nodded happily. She waltzed up to the screaming sensor panel and stared at, seemingly deep in thought. "Not big enough to be anything from the late Aggregat family. Judging from the speed and size, I would say that they're either Rheinbotes or Wasserfalls…"

"Ok…" Ordo gritted out, clearly having no idea what in the Force the child had just said. "How are they tracking us?"

"Your ship has a... you called it a cloak?" She gave them all an amused and rather doubtful look. "And it is this cloak that makes this ship invisible to eyesight. This statement is correct, is it not?"

"Yes!" Ordo almost shouted, waiving his hands at the sensor screen. "So how are they tracking us?"

"By not using sight, obviously." The child answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The ship is still a physical object moving in the atmosphere, so it makes sense that they can track the disruption it makes even if they can't see what's causing it right?"

It was a cold bit of logic, something that no one in the room had thought of if the gobsmacked faces around him were any indication. Palpatine held his breath and downed a hot cup of tea to calm his brewing headache and help him resist his urge to throw something at someone. Watching as the troopers scrambled and the control panel cried out faster, the missiles closing in rapidly.

And as the beeping turned into an almost constant tone, the child struck.

Lena shrugged at him though the hologram, seemingly amused by his growing frustration. "Either of those would be guided by operators on the ground and I don't have time to teach you how to attempt a spoof on a radar station so…" She waved her hand behind her lazily, and there was the sound of a massive explosion and the holo fizzed angrily. The two men who weren't piloting were thrown from their feet due to lack of crash-webbing.

Lena though, seemingly completely unperturbed by the massive explosion and just turned back to the holo, seemingly undisturbed as the ship shook hard enough that Ordo was actually thrown into the air, an unnerving smile on her lips. "Now where were we? I believe you had a question Sir?" She asked, turning to look at Kenobi expectantly.

The Jedi's eyes were wide with horror, and Sidious for once could not blame him. "Several more now than I had before to be completely honest." He whispered in shock, the entire room was dead quiet. "But for now, let's get back to the question at hand?" Kenobi choked out with a resigned swipe at his beard, pointedly ignoring the questions that were on the very forefront everyone's mind.

Lena nodded as the ship she was on seemed to stabilize, Ordo pulling himself up by the pilots chair beside her. "By friends, I assume you mean the ones that call themselves the _Cadets_?" She stated in a tone that made it obvious that it wasn't a question she was asking.

"You've seen them!" Ion shouted at her answer, standing up swiftly and making is way to the increasingly crowded front of the room. "Where are they? Are they safe?" He asked, his face a mask of worry and fear.

"I have seen them; I can't tell you where they are exactly right now." The cherubic blonde replied curtly, "I can say that about half could be considered safe…"Lena trailed off, suddenly looking quite put out.

"And the other half?" Kenobi said quietly. His echo in the force making it quite clear what he expected the answer to be.

She crossed her arms at them and huffed. "You know if they had just surrendered in the first place we wouldn't have had to kill so many of them securing the ship." She pouted at them.

That change among the senators was a thing of beauty to a Sith. Sidious watched as so many of them shattered, as they threw their heads into their hands or merely started staring off into the distance. Their minds simply not capable of registering the words the girl had spoken.

The other people in the room were more apt to handle the news. The Jedi for instance, were simply giving the grieving people pitying looks, or turning a harder look to their captive guide. "So they are dead then?" Mace asked, looking like he was resisting rubbing the frustration from his bald head.

Lena shrugged. "Little less than half, the rest are mostly fine though…" She trailed off with an annoyed wave, seemingly not terribly interested. "We wouldn't want them hurt anyways, that would've defeated the purpose of capturing them in the first place."

That was what Sidious had been waiting for. "So…" He cut in quietly, all eyes sliding back to his presence, where they belonged. "What purpose did you have for attacking our ships? For capturing the cadets?" He asked, making a physical effort to look as forgiving and grandfatherly as possible.

Lena turned lazily to look at him. Their eyes locked and she gave Palpatine a knowing grin. " **Krieg.** " She slipped out breathlessly.

Ion growled. "Look you bra-" The young man made an effort to compose himself. "Look, just tell us what you want for them! Pantora is a rich sector, we could get anything you little dirtba-" He wound himself back again. "Just name what you want already!" He finally growled out in frustration.

The blonde girl gave him an look, eyebrow raised. "I already told you how to get them back…" She smiled at Ion. "We want krieg! And that means no negotiations, no compromises, no retreat, nothing but endless war!" She smiled at them, wiggling her finger at each point, like she was asking for a pet or begging for a sweet at a market.

"Then _kerig_ is what you will have. "Growled Ion's father. Chairman Papanoida rose heavily from where he sat in the briefing room's corner. His face twisted in a mask of stern anger.

Notluwiski's stern gaze swept at her little hologram, his face pale and sickly but full of determination. "If your world is so in love with this conflict then we shall give you what you desire." He rumbled. Kenobi and several others opened their mouths to object but he continued before they could speak. "War… yes we will give you your war until you're sick of it." He jabbed a hand at the child's hologram, a determined light brightening in his eyes.

Lena's reaction was surprising, though Sidious internally figured that at this point it probably shouldn't have been.

She laughed at them.

The girl laughed high and loud, her face a mask of genuine amusement. "That's a might big promise Mr.…" She said as she trailed off into giggles. "I wonder if you'll be able to fulfill it, hmm?"

"Cocky little shit aren't you?" Kal grumbled, the Madalorian fixing her with a curious glance.

"If you know yourself and you know your enemy, not in a thousand battles shall defeat ever find you." She fixed her luminous gaze on Skirata, suddenly serious. "We know ourselves and our capabilities, our strengths and weaknesses perfectly. For we have spent a thousand years tempering our nations in the hell-fires of war." She smirked at him, that knowing grin that she had given Palpatine earlier. "and we know you... certainly better than you know yourselves. For we are watchful, and out eye never closes."

The child, the girl that had just blown up several missiles with a wave of her hand gazed back across the room. "But you know nothing at all of us, and our long vigil had taught us that you know precious little about yourselves... And our experience has taught us that the general that knows not himself nor his enemy will never be free from defeat."

"So let me give you a piece of advice my father once gave me." Her eyes fell across everyone in the room again in turn before finally returning to Skirata's face. "What you don't know… it can hurt you, there are more things between Heaven and Hell than you might have dream't of in your philosophies, and the secrets you deem unworthy of your attention can still deem you worthy of theirs…" The girl trailed off ominously.

"For instance good man, how many soldiers were you planning to send to… make us sick of it, as I believe you said." She fixed her flippant grin back on the chairman. "Ten thousand? A hundred thousand? How many?"

"What kind of question is that?" Ion shouted as he stood up again, looking angry at the conversations sudden turn to battle philosophy.

"Sir' we're breaking orbit now." One of the pilots cut everyone off nervously. "If I could interject and ask for further orders?"

Thorn turned back to him at that. "And I need my orders as well Chancellor."

"I would suggest surrender." Lena told the holographic trooper in a half-bored tone. "You're far too close to the major cities to have any chance of surviving until reinforcements arrive." She nodded to herself, seemingly approving of the course of action. "Just keep your hands empty and up and surrender to the soldiers that aren't dressed in black."

Palpatine rose as the feeling in the room changed swiftly. "Ordo, I think it would be best for everyone if you came back with our new guests… Chuchi if your task-force could take them back to Coruscant?" He asked, trying to sound as diplomatic as possible.

The look on Ozzel's face was worth the slight snub. His eyebrows nearly reached his hairline and he opened his mouth to contest, but Chuchi answered faster. "Of course, Chancellor." The blue woman nodded at him diplomatically.

Her eyes flickered to Lena and he could see a sense of unease pass across her face before fleeing into a friendly smile. "I'm sure we'll get along just fine." She asked more than stated, a hint of nervousness edging back.

"Meanwhile, we're going to have to figure out how to get this mess resolved." Kenobi finally broke down, half addressing Anakin's frantic energy.

Lena chucked. "Await my arrival General…" Her eyes glinted merrily as she peered into the space beyond the cockpit and continued. "You will need my advice if you are to have any hope of succeeding."

The pilot sighed at that cryptic comment. "We've grouped up Senator, and await your command."

"So…" Thorn trailed off. "What exactly do you want me to do Sir's?" The trooper asked.

Kenobi ran a hand through his hair, looking exhausted. "I suppose your men must surrender." He said helplessly, unfazed by the inhalations and wide-eyed looks from half the people around him. "Any help we could send at this point will take days to arrive at the least, and from the sounds of it you're completely surrounded and outgunned."

The odd little girl nodded her approval to him, turning to Thorn. "The men under your command will not need to die needlessly. As I said before, just keep your hands up and avoid troops in black."

Ryio sighed as Thorn silently saluted sharply and cut his connection. "Then, let's not waste time." Chuchi turned back and bowed. "I am afraid we will have to continue this conversation at a later date." She said apologetically and a moment later the ships leaped into hyperspace and the hologram vanished.

There was a kind of collective sigh as the chaos of hyperspace travel cut the transmission. With the exception of a few individuals in the room who were raring to go, or trying not to sob, everyone seemed to be weighed down by the oppressive knowledge of the scale and scope of the task that had been presented.

This peace was broken when Commander Fox slammed his fist into the wall near the door, hard enough to leave a dent in the durasteel, and stormed out.

Even the Jedi looked shocked. The other commanders in the room seemed to share a look between them and then with Kal and his entourage. "We'll go calm him down Sir." Rex answered curtly, his helmet dipping in respect, as Bly and Cody rushed out to find the other man.

Palpatine sighed explosively at that, allowing some of the exhaustion and frustration that he had been feeling to show. "Well… I suppose we should get started cleaning this mess up." He started with a wave of his hand.

III

 **Location: Outskirts of Berlin**

Thorn stood in the ruins of what might have been a pretty pavilion at one point. Beautiful marble columns stretched to the sky's, carved with reliefs that might have been about victories or battles, their pale surfaces streaked with soot and dust.

He didn't have time to appreciate their artistry though. He was following his orders… to the letter and not the spirit maybe, but his troops still marched towards where he presumed the city that had blasted them from the sky was.

He had radioed the bridges of the remaining cruisers with their orders to surrender, but he had also added that they should rig the reactors of their cruisers to blow as soon as their troops cleared the blast radius.

He saw no reason to just hand over the technology to these barbarous primitives.

Though their exact level of primitiveness was being rapidly brought into question in his mind by recent events, and he had ordered his forces to keep their weapons slung and their guard up.

"Kacker, do you see anything?" He asked the nearby major, who was standing atop of a half-collapsed garden shed that had presumably been ruined by their landing, the other man had his bino's to his helmet, peering into the dust and darkness.

The major swung his gaze across the horizon again and slid down the shattered little outbuilding. "Ground troops and vehicles, thousands of them and they're all coming our way."

Several troopers around him stopped and reached for slung weapons, looking like they were contemplating trying to fight their way out of this anyway, despite their orders. He shut that down with a single look. The idea that they were simply going to surrender was not sitting well with anyone, but they were loyal soldiers and they still followed his command.

Thorn certainly included himself in that "anyone" but he was going to keep to his orders too, chiefly because they allowed him to protect the men under his command, but that was besides the point in his mind.

He would try to surrender, but if they were going to die, they would die fighting. But if they were allowed to, then there was simply no point in fighting. They were beyond help, he knew it, and all his men knew it.

And he would be a fool if he didn't think that the troops massing on the horizon didn't know it.

And so Thorn grin his teeth, ignored the clenching in his gut, and kept walking into the unknown.

* * *

So, that was chapter seven.

Nothing too exciting in this one but rest assured, we will be getting back into the meat of the story soon.

 **Next Time on Hearts of Iron:** Erwin and Miho get yelled at, Lena and Maho both do a bunch of yelling, and the cadets conspire to escape!


End file.
